Lying from You
by Khristina
Summary: Draco is strung up in addiction. Harry is searching for answers. Their paths cross more than once and forces beyond them draw them closer with every tryst. Set in sixth year. Slash. Mostly canon #DRARRY
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A/N: Hi, and welcome to my first ever Harry Potter fanfiction. Before you begin, I will attempt not to bore you too much with this intro which I suggest you DO NOT IGNORE. The events in this book are set in sixth year and will deviate from canon more than once. Certain characters will also be present that were originally absent (I'm sure you know what I mean) and while this will mostly be from Draco's POV, some shifts will be necessary for plot development.

This is a drarry (slash) fanfiction and is rated M for: strong language, violence, dark magic and a lot of smutty fun times! I suggest you only read this if you are of age but if you think you can anyway... I did warn you. This is going to be one of the longest fanfics I have ever written and is mostly being written to help me face my writer's block when it comes to writing lemony scenes.

I currently have no beta but will try and fix all mistakes should I come across any. Feel free to drop a review and follow this story, I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. If you would like to beta this book or any of my other works or want to know what I'm writing next, check out my-  
Twitter: WitchQueen007  
Tumblr: No.1 Introvert  
or message me on-  
Facebook or Instagram: Khristina Moraa.  
I will try to update once a week and make up for it if I can't. This book will also be available on wattpad under the name _silent-assassin_

Title inspired by the Linkin Park song of the same name in memory of the late Chester Bennington.  
RIP love.

Lying from you: "It's making up lies to make another person angry so that they don't want to be around you."

Mike Shinoda.

silent-assassin x

Started: 31/4/17  
Completed:

Disclaimer: This is a fanfiction and thus no profit is being made from it by the writer. All characters belong to J. as do the plot and any scenes familiar to those mentioned in the books and the film adaptations.

{HPDM}

I awake to see no one is free  
We're all fugitives  
Look at the way we live  
Down here  
Where I cannot sleep from fear, no  
I said which way do I turn?  
Oh I forget everything I learn

Spies  
Coldplay

Word count: 3569

* * *

{HPDM}

* * *

The sounds of cheering floated from the castle to the Forbidden Forest in a miasma of excitement and anticipation as Draco Malfoy picked his way among gnarly roots and bush undergrowth of the forest. The moon was bright and it lit up his way so that he did not need to cast a lumos charm ot carry a lamp. It was the Choosing Ceremony the sixth time over, the novelty had all but worn off. And if Draco was being honest with himself, which he liked to think he often was, he didn't much care who got into what house. He had bigger things to worry about.

He had no delusions about what was expected of him this year, the finer details had been glossed over by The Dark Lord who had left them to his 'young, ingenious' mind to overcome, but they were relying on him- Voldemort and his posse. If he failed... Draco cursed clenching his fists, there was no room for failure. Not anymore, not from his family.

The silence had become too loud and the treacherous thoughts slunk back into his mind, he only hoped he would find the asphodel root before it was too late.

Draco's blood froze in his veins when he heard a loud howl. Instinctively his face was upturned, his gaze searching for the moon which up until then had been lighting his path but had gone, for the most part, unnoticed. Full, he noted with a grimace. Just his luck. The howl had been far enough that if he turned back he could sprint to the castle and return barely scathed, but he had come this far and he would not turn back without getting what he came for. Besides, he wouldn't have a chance to do this later and the potion he was brewing was complex enough. Steeling himself against fear, he continued deeper into the forest trying his best to ignore the howling and the fact that it seemed to be getting closer each minute.

"Finally," he muttered when he spotted the long slender leaves of the asphodel plant peeking from underneath the shadow of an oak tree.

The moon chose that moment to emerge from behind a cloud, Draco shivered as his breath misted before him, it was cold for September.

A twig snapped behind him and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin. Upon examining his surroundings, he saw nothing. 'For God's sake, you're sixteen, not a first year girl, act like it!' he reprimanded himself as he dropped to his knees and began to uproot the plant, carefully. This was the only one he had spotted for kilometres and he wasn't sure he wanted to pilfer Snape's cupboard.

He wasn't ready for that.

Once he had the plant in his possession, Draco stood, dusted off his trousers and set about making his way back to the castle. His blood froze when he heard a twig snap once more, he wasn't as startled this time though whether that had to do with the heavy panting he could hear or his previous reassurances, he had no idea.

It was large, nearly half Draco's height on four legs, it's yellow eyes watched him menacingly as it stalked closer baring it's sharp canines which were dripping with spittle. Muscle rippled beneath beneath grey fur with each step it took and for a moment Draco felt the familiar sensation of fear- the real kind which he would never confess to having felt so many times before- slither though his veins.

He got out his wand, slowly, and pointed it at the creature.

It hesitated only for a moment but was not deterred by the sight of a eleven inch piece of wood. Fuck, he thought. He wanted to move but his feet seemed to have a mind of their own and anyway, he thought, what was the point if the beast would catch up to him, just like The Dark Lord would if he showed even the slightest signs of deviance? Focus, sometimes his mind ran too fast on its tracks, it made him want to claw at his temples and grind his teeth. The feeling of hopelessness was not one he was familiar with.

The werewolf's mouth hung open, letting loose a growl just as Draco yelled, "Impedimentia" but even he knew it was too late as the monster lunged at him knocking them both to the ground. Draco landed on a sharp root and grunted as pain flashed beneath his eyelids. His wand flew out of his hands and landed somewhere to his left. He grit his teeth, this was not how the evening was supposed to go.

Scrambling for his wand, he searched his mind for a spell that would be strong enough to halt a werewolf, there was something that his father had taught him during the summer holiday at the end of his fourth year hovering just at the fringes of his memory...

Sharp claws raked through his skin and Draco screamed, a piercing feral cry. Pain seared white hot beneath his skin, his arms thrashed wildly of their own accord. He had to get away, he had to get away before...

"No," he whimpered as the creature stood above him. Had he not been fighting for his life, Draco would have been repulsed that the sound left his lips, but as it were, the creature was about to bite him and he could not -would not- allow that to happen. It bowed his head and he kicked and squirmed pushing at it with all his strength but the werewolf would not budge. Sharp canines lacerated his skin, sinking into his neck and a searing flash of pain was the last thing he felt before the darkness took him.

* * *

{HPDM}

* * *

The Great Hall was a mass of shouts and yells as various students strove to hear and be heard above the noise of their companions who were struggling to catch up about the summer and what had happened over the long holiday.

"What d'you reckon's going to happen this year then, Harry?" asked Ron above the noise as the new members of Gryffindor were welcomed with whoops and cheers of excitement.

Harry sat opposite Ron and Hermione with various aromatic dishes between them, unable to resist the smile that found its way onto his face. He was glad to be back at Hogwarts if only to escape the Dursleys for a few months. The summer had seemed especially long and he would have contemplated finding his own way to the Burrow had Dumbledore not shown up on his doorstep and apparated him to Slughorn's residence.

"Yeah, Harry," Dean said leaning forward so that a few loose threads of his scarf dipped into his bowl of curry which appeared to be making his eyes water. "Didn't catch you on the train, don't tell me you used the flying car again."

Harry laughed slightly catching Ron's eye.

"He wouldn't," his best friend said. "Not without me at least."

That earned a few laughs.

"How did you get here?" asked Seamus now invested in the conversation as were a few others he could see.

"Er..." said Harry trying to think fast. He couldn't say Dumbledore had whisked him off on an adventure to try and convince Slughorn to come and teach at Hogwarts before dropping him off at the Weasleys who had accompanied him to King's Cross Station where he had boarded the train but spent nearly three quarters of the ride spying on Malfoy and his friends. That would just be bragging.

"Harry probably just needed some time away from all your badgering," Hermione said coming to his aid.

Dean and Seamus didn't look convinced and he even heard someone say, "You mean your badgering" which he thought wasn't fair but a fifth year at their end of the table had come up with an interesting way to make his mashed potatoes change shape and that was enough to take the attention off him.

"Thanks," he muttered to Hermione under his breath. "Not sure how I would have gotten off that one."

Hermione smiled. "No problem."

Ron cleared his throat puffing his chest out uppishly. "As I was saying," he said casting a reproachful glance in Hermione's direction to which he received an eye roll, "d'you think anything's going to happen this year?"

Harry had been so bored all summer he could do with some action, not that he was pining for it, as it did tend to come in the most dangerous and disastrous manner when it did.

"I don't know," he said spooning some chicken stew. "I wasn't really expecting much..."

"Nonsense," said Ron at the same time as Hermione said, "Of course not." They both glanced at each other.

"There's no use denying it, something's definitely going to happen, Hermione," he said in between bites of roast chicken.

"Obviously," she said with the air of one educating a simple-minded child, "but it doesn't mean Harry has to get all excited especially now that Voldemort-" she was cut short by Ron's choking- "is gathering his forces."

"We need to keep an eye on Malfoy though," Ron said when he was done expelling bits of chicken that had snuck into his windpipe and Harry could not agree more. "Whatever he was doing at Borgin and Burkes-"

"Who was doing what at Borgin and Burkes?" asked Lavender Brown sidling up to Ron who did not seem to mind the attention, much to Hermione's chagrin.

"Browsing for furniture," said Ron easily.

"Ooh, I know that place," said Parvati Patil waving at her sister Padma Patil before turning to them. "They say the owners were one of You-Know-Who's supporters back in the day."

Ron waved that away. "Really? They seemed rather pleasant when we stopped by..." and just like that Harry found himself falling into the rhythm of being back at Hogwarts, glad to be somewhere he could call home once more.

{HPDM}

"I will not allow this to happen, something can be done, it is only a matter of having the right ingredients."

"Whether or not you will allow it, Severus, is if no consequence, what is done is done. The boy will need your support-"

"Surely you cannot be serious Albus, the boy is merely sixteen, he... he is not ready."

"Nothing can be done about that Minerva, lycanthropy is incurable as I am sure Severus is well aware."

A hiss. "I swore to protect the boy should-"

"Severus," warned Dumbledore

The room was silent and Draco suspected that they had realised he was no longer unconscious. Knowing there was no need to pretend any longer, his eyes cracked open, it took a while to adjust to the bright light streaming in from the window opposite him. He inhaled sharply, there was a pain in his left leg and his neck.

"I'll get your pain tonic," Madam Pomfrey said leaving the room clearly eager to exclude herself from the tension in the room.

Professor Dumbledore stood to his left watching him warily with McGonagall at his side- the only one whose worry was plain on her face- and Professor Snape stood to his right his expression unreadable as always.

"Mr. Malfoy," this was the Headmaster," how do you feel?"

"Like I've been trampled by a herd of hippogiffs, fallen off a fucking broom-"

"Language," reprimanded Snape.

"-and been impaled by several needles in various places," he finished ignoring his godfather.

"Well, the boy certainly has not lost the faculty of speech," the Transfigurations professor said fixing him with a glare that would cause most students to cower. Draco could barely bring himself to care. "I will leave this in your capable hands, Albus."

She swept out of the room just as Madam Pompfrey returned with a vial bearing a nasty green liquid. Draco's lips immediately curled in displeasure, couldn't they bother to at least make them look stomachable? She uncorked the vial and pressed it to his lips so that he had no choice but to ingest the tonic. With the solemn looks on Snape and Dumbledore's faces, he wasn't about to make a fuss because of a mouthful of a pain-relieving potion. Once the medi-witch left the room, Dumbledore stepped forward.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asked.

"What day is it?" he asked hoping it was some sort of dream, perhaps he had just woken up from a coma, though even as he thought it he knew the idea was desperate and far-fetched.

"Tuesday, second of September 1996," replied Dumbledore.

"You were found unconscious in the Forbidden Forest, having sustained heavy blood loss and various other injuries. Now, do care to explain exactly what you were doing in the Forbidden Forest during the start of term feast?" asked Severus his tone sharp.

Draco wasn't sure a simple 'I was not hungry' would suffice.

"I-" then he remembered the asphodel plant, Draco looked down at his clothes only to find he wasn't wearing his robes but a blue pair of linen pants and a similar shirt. He sincerely hoped Madam Pomfrey had not discovered it, or worse, taken it. He needed it and the potion... Merlin, it had been two days.

His fingers were shaking so he clenched the heavy duvet and looked away.

"Mr. Malfoy," he heard Dumbledore say but his voice was distorted. Snape too was saying something but he looked fuzzy, like an image viewed through sheer clothing; visible but not quite. Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and forced himself to calm down. He would be fine, as soon as he got out of the Hospital Wing, he would simply brew another potion maybe chase it down with some of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey for good measure and everything would return to normal.

"Perhaps you should get, Poppy," the headmaster was saying but Draco protested.

"No, I'm alright it's probably just the change..." His skin felt too hot, the fabric of his clothes scratching against too soft skin. He needed to get out of here.

"The full moon isn't for a few weeks."

He was a werewolf now, one of his worst nightmares had come to pass and if word got out about it... his parents would certainly disown him, his blood was no longer pure and he would have to register as a magical creature. While he had seriously been questioning some of the ideals he had grown up thinking were right, this had not been the level of change he'd been seeking.

"I have instructed Professor Snape as the head of your house and your godfather, to write to your parents about your unfortunate accident. In the mean time your classes will proceed as normal save every full moon when you will receive wolfsbane from Severus and be excused from your regular nightly rituals. You will not be alone in this Draco-" he cringed "-remember that."

He turned to Snape. "You can fix this, can't you?" As an adept Potions master, Draco knew that if anyone was to find a cure it would be him.

"I intend to try," he said shooting Dumbledore a pointed look.

"Do not lead the boy on, Severus. I advise you to make your peace with this Mr. Malfoy as unfortunate an accident as it is, you may find that some good-"

"Good?" he demanded fingers clutching the blanked even harder until his knuckles were white, it did not escape either of the professors' notice. "Merlin, how the hell is this good? Do you know who my parents are? What they stand for? Do you think they will accept me when they see what I have become, this thing I have changed into?"

Draco blinked to keep back the tears. He had thought it would be enough, having the task The Dark Lord assigned to him hovering in his mind daily- the threat to kill his parents- he thought it would be enough to try and hate the headmaster so that it would be easier to do what he had to do. But the man had the nerve to try and console him, to be understanding after he had been turned into the very thing his parents reviled.

"You need some rest, I will see you as soon as you leave the hospital wing, good day Mr. Malfoy." He left.

His godfather was not much better. His piercing gaze settled on Draco. "I expect a full account on what happened as soon as you leave this place. Be thankful that your father will be angry enough for the both of us."

Draco sunk back into the bed, he had never wished so hard to stop living.

{HPDM}

It was two days later that Draco was finally allowed to leave the Hospital Wing, a windy Friday afternoon. Expectedly, news of his accident had spread fast and false, the rumours were as fictitious they went.

"Got bit by a vampire, bloody git deserved it if you ask me."

"Snatched away by the centaurs, probably promised to set his father on them- it would annoy me."

"Trampled by a herd of hippogiffs, a good service to mankind in my opinion."

"Don't be stupid, James. He obviously run off with Pansy, apparently he's shagging her."

"What? I thought you said you heard from William who heard from Hannah who heard from Lavender who heard from Parvati who overheard Crabbe say he saw Malfoy and Zabini snogging."

"Blaise? Ugh, I can't stand that prick."

These weren't the worst of them, Pansy and Blaise had visited him twice and at his insistence had not spared him of the horrible rumours being spread about him. He didn't care what the other students thought but preferred to know what he was walking into. Most of them were Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who hated him the most, Draco could not bring himself to care even as they gossiped behind his back along the corridors, speaking a bit louder when he was near. They could never say anything he had not already thought of himself.

He locked himself in the boys' dormitory -in his spirit of kindness, Dumbledore, the insufferable man, had excused from classes until next week- and sank to the floor. He wished they could shut up, he wished he had ran instead of staring at that werewolf like a fool, he wished he didn't have to hear what the voices in his head had to say. A growl of frustration left his lips as he got to his feet, he had a potion to brew.

* * *

A/N: I swore (solemnly) that I would keep the author's notes to a minimum but I just had so much fun writing this chapter and really wanted to know what you guys thought of it. Why don't you go ahead and click those follow and favourite buttons, eh? Maybe we can share a bottle of old' Ogden's Firewhiskey and sing by a fire until our voices are hoarse.

That sound like a plan?

I look forward to hearing from you.

silent-assassin x


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-new

Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them  
Sometimes I wonder why this is happening  
It's like nothing I can do will distract me

Figure .09  
Linkin Park

Word count: 4302

Aside from having to hide from his friends, the weekend was otherwise uneventful, he managed to brew another batch successfully and was pleased to know he still had a few bottles of firewhiskey left, just enough to last until the next Hogsmeade weekend, if he was careful. He had also been pleased to find that the asphodel root had been left untouched by Madam Pomfrey when he received his clothing from her.

An empty classroom had been put to use as his base of operations (aside from Myrtle's lair of course because the tales that were spread about it made it unoriginal though one could not be too picky) and he had been quick to transfigure a used bottle of Firewhiskey into a cauldron. After that he had assembled various other necessities such as a motar, measuring jars, a large wooden spoon that looked about to crumble to dust, all from the Potions classroom.

Draco could admit he had hesitated at the thought of ferrying all those items across the corridors of Hogwarts in broad daylight but the conundrum had speedily been resolved when he realised a Disillusionment charm was all he needed and proceeded to levitate the items to a fifth floor classroom. Of course he'd had to pretend he was just holding his wand at the ready each time he came across someone, and who's to say it was unwarranted with all the people that clearly wanted him dead?

Once everything was set up nice and cosy in the classroom that bore a heavy air of disuse for at least a few months, Draco got to work, grinding the dried asphodel root (courtesy of a handy Dehydrating Charm) to a fine powder then mixing it with juice from a sopophorous bean and essence of sedge which he had acquired from an apothecary in Diagonal Alley.

He recalled his trip to Borgin and Burkes and with it his mission. Draco bit back a curse as he began to stir the viscous purple liquid anti-clockwise. As much as he would just love to do it (complete the mission that is) at the moment, he rather thought it could wait a little longer. He needed this now.

It took most of the day to brew the potion which sufficiently occupied his time and thoughts. When he stopped, it was only to creep back to the Slytherin dungeons where he devested himself and climbed into bed, his roommates non the wiser.

Monday morning arrived too soon and Draco found himself awake hours before the sun was up with a sinking feeling in his stomach, somehow he got the feeling it would not be a good day. Getting out of bed was a difficult task and even then, he stumbled to the bathroom with two vials in hand, unable to think straight. He wanted to get out; out of his body which no longer felt like his own anymore, out of Hogwarts so he would not have to- he popped open the vial and drank from it before he could think any more. It was a bottle of firewhiskey which he had shrunk to the size of his finger. As long as he did not drink more than a pint, the burning liquor would continue to flow out of the vial, he need never return it to its original size.

It was a clever bit of magic he'd learned over the summer when he had needed a distraction to keep him occupied and away from the lounge where The Dark Lord had seen it fit to conduct his business from. Draco took the bottle from his lips and leaned against the bathroom door with a sigh as the suppressant began to do its work. He would give it about five minutes then he would take his potion. But he didn't. He drank two more mouthfuls before he put the vial away then knocked back the potion immediately.

{HPDM}

Harry Potter stumbled into the great hall about as gracefully as someone who'd forgotten to walk, his two best friends were already seated and having their lunch and he could see Ron's ginger hair amongst the other students at the Gryffindor table. Next to him was Hermione whose bushy hair somehow also stood out amongst the rest.

Professor Slughorn had kept him back after their first potions lesson commenting on the abysmal introduction to his write-up on the Draught of Living Death potion the class would be brewing in a week's time. He'd rambled on about how he'd expected Harry Potter to be a more skilled at Potions and suggested that perhaps he should begin taking on extra work for practice if he intended to get a passing grade in his N.E.W.T.s.

Harry had scoffed mentally at that, he may have been the Chosen One but unlike Hermoine he had a low tolerance for work, especially of the extra kind and when it came from people like Slughorn who he was beginning to see was not a very open-minded person. He'd politely informed the professor that he would study harder but could not take on any more work with his N.E.W.T.s coming up. He did, however need to leave otherwise he would miss lunch (and seeing as he'd already missed breakfast) he was not eager to remain hungry until evening.

The professor had grudgingly let him leave.

On his way to the great hall, Harry caught whispers about Malfoy's accident in the Forbidden Forest a few days ago. No one really knew much else except that he'd been found unconscious by Hagrid in the early hours of the morning (though what the gamekeeper had been doing in the forest at that hour was also unknown) and had been taken to the hospital wing. Of course, it didn't stop people from fabricating stories as to what happened, they were cruel and remorseless (as Malfoy often was) and Harry could admit to having listened in when Lavender Brown invited the entire common room to listen to her version of the 'Daily Dirt'.

He was not, however, so naïve as to believe any of the stories and had been waiting ,rather shamelessly, for someone to corner the Slytherin so they could get the truth out of him but he had not been seen for the entirety of the first week or the weekend. It did nothing to quell the rumours however, if anything it seemed to fuel them. Even now, Harry's eye involuntarily searched the Slytherin table for the boy but could not see him amongst his friends.

It was odd in itself as Malfoy loved to make a show of everything from his importance right down to the fact that he had his admirers eating out of the palm of his hand. Usually it was quite irritating to watch but with his absence the Slytherin table seemed like a herd of lost sheep mourning the absence of its master; life went on but it was not the same.

"Harry," Ron said dragging him out of his thoughts. He motioned for him to join them and Harry did so, instantly forgetting about Malfoy.

"You alright, mate?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, fine. Why?" he asked.

"Well, for one you were just standing there glaring at the Slytherin table, not that they deserve any better," he added. Had he? Harry certainly hadn't noticed looking at the Slytherin table that long, he only recalled looking at it when he was trying to spot Malfoy and it had taken only a few moments to see he wasn't there. "And also, you seem a bit flustered."

"Er..." he began not really knowing what to say.

"He didn't get you again did he because I tell you that slimy git needs to be brought down a peg or two and I'd be happy to do it too," said Ron dropping his fork and rolling up his sleeves.

Once again, Harry struggled to find a proper answer. He didn't want word of Malfoy 'getting him' to spread round the school and he was quite sure some fifth years down the table were listening over the sound of talking. He shot Ron a reproachful look but Ron had already returned to eating his beef stew furiously.

"What did Slughorn want?" asked Hermoine shutting her copy of The Standard Book of Spells: Grade Six.

Harry was grateful for the change in topic and proceeded to tell them what Slughorn had wanted in between mouthfuls of fried rice and pumpkin juice because he certainly wasn't looking forward to a DADA lesson with Snape on a hungry stomach. "Professors these days," Ron uttered in disgust when Harry mentioned the extra work at the same time as Hermoine said, "You should have said yes, potions isn't exactly your best subject."

"I can get by," he said.

He hadn't exactly failed it in his O. and Snape had been brutal to him during his lessons, perhaps with Slughorn he could hope to pass. Hermoine seemed to be thinking along the same lines as she left the topic well enough alone. Ron let out a loud groan and stuffed all the food on his plate into his mouth earning a scowl from Hermoine and a curious look from Harry.

"What?" he asked before Hermoine beat him to it.

"I've just remembered, I haven't finished the essay Snape assigned on Countercurses."

"You've got to be joking," Hermoine exclaimed. "You said you'd finished it when I asked."

"Yeah, what've you been doing all weekend?" asked Harry.

He immediately knew from the shade of red Ron's expression had turned that this was not a question he was comfortable answering. He swallowed past a mouthful of mashed potatoes. "I said 'more or less gotten it down' and besides, Seamus wanted a rematch, I couldn't exactly say no."

Hermoine rolled her eyes in exasperation.

Ron stood up, forgetting all about dessert, and rushed out of the great hall.

"Honestly, I don't know why I even bother with you two," she muttered.

"I finished my essay long before time," Harry said thinking that was a bit not fair.

"Only because I had to drag you to the library to help me research," she said pushing aside her plate and leaving the great hall as well.

Harry sighed knowing she would come around. Being the top of the class- thus very organised- he could see how his and Ron's lack of attention to deadlines got on her nerves. She meant well, he knew that. The Great Hall had begun to empty as students languidly strode out in preparation for the afternoon classes.

Harry noticed a group of girls, who he was sure were from different houses, gathered at the Hufflepuff table where they alternated between hushed whispers and loud giggles. The Ravenclaws shot them disdainful looks over their books but did not choose to leave until they had finished their meal. There weren't that many Slytherins either but their table was by far the most silent after the Ravenclaw's save for a few murmurs. Harry found himself searching for the blonde again despite knowing that he would not be there, as expected, was no sign of him. An idea popped into his mind: going over to the Slytherins to ask but he quickly dismissed it.

It was ludicrous.

Not only would it be utterly suspicious (they were rivals after all not friends) but it was Draco Malfoy, a mean, spoiled, selfish, self-centred prat and he'd probably gone into the forest for something as stupid as a dare or to prove a point. So he finished up his lunch and rushed up to the Gryffindor common room to get a book he'd forgotten to pack. They had DADA with the Slytherins this year- the rumours would either be proven true or put to rest.

When Harry walked into the classroom, he noted that there was a very Snape-ish touch to it. Seeing as the post was declared vacant each year, most of the students had grown accustomed to the ever changing decor (which was in this case charts, models and the like). However, this year Harry could swear the room had been repainted a dull green colour designed to put students in the foulest of moods that could be mastered.

The layout was relatively similar to that of the Potions classroom only that the charts put up on the walls and the models that littered the classroom had more to do with the Dark Arts- and the defense against it- rather than proper brewing and genus names of rare plants.

Ron waved him over to the back of the classroom which was where they always sat, especially if it was Snape's class and Harry just managed to settle down as the professor strode into the room shutting the doors with a loud bang. His long black robes billowed behind him as he walked to the front of the classroom.

Snape looked round at the mass of Gryffindors and Slytherins with knit brows clearly conveying his distaste. "I had hoped to deal with a smaller class but seeing as this is not an elective, I will, for another year, have to contend with your bafoonery."

"More like we have to contend with his presence," muttered Ron pretending to open his book.

Harry snickered.

Hermione gave them a warning glare.

"Did you finish the essay?" he asked keeping one eye on Snape.

Ron nodded. "Yeah and just in the nick of time, I'd hate to think what-"

"Potter, Weasley!" snapped the greasy-haired professor. "It seems to me you find catching up on the summer's events a proper thing to do in my classroom. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Several accusing glances were directed at them, surely they could wait until later into the term to start losing points for the house.

"Each," added Snape with a nasty smile.

Harry could have wrung his neck there and then but forced himself to calm down, from Ron's clenched jaw he saw he was not alone.

When Snape seemed satisfied that he had ruined the class for them, he returned to the rest of the students whom he addressed regarding the year's syllabus at which point Hermione began taking notes fervently and Ron's head sunk to his folded arms.

Harry realised with trepidation that his days of enjoying Defense Against the Dark Arts were numbered.

{HPDM}

Draco had done his best to remain unseen for the better part of the day and for the most part it had worked, he'd skipped both breakfast and lunch in the great hall much to Pansy's dislike, she'd told him as much when she'd finally found him in the Quidditch pitch. She knew something had happened in the forest that he was keeping to himself but she was too good of a friend to push him for answers. "Make no mistake, Draco, I expect you tell me sooner or later."

He'd simply nodded because how else would he get the stubborn girl to leave him alone? And leave him alone she did but Draco did not miss the flash of concern in her eyes and that was what pained him most, she shouldn't care, he didn't need her to care. It would only make everything that much harder. But that was not his main concern now, he had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape in a few minutes and the man had owled him- he'd actually written a letter-warning him not to miss his lesson as he would not be let off for it. Slytherin had the lesson with Gryffindor this year and knew for a fact the sanctimonious brats would take it upon themselves to make the lesson a long and tedious one.

Well then, should they leave him no choice, he would not hesitate to hex them to the seventh circle.

The class went silent when he walked in, not complete silence- that was reserved for the likes of Potter- but much worse, the sort of silence that brought out the murmurs and hushed whispers. But he was a Slytherin and a Malfoy which counted for something so in a fashion that would impress even Lucuis Malfoy, he drew himself to his full height and walked to the side of the room occupied by Slytherins 'looking for all the world like he was navigating a dumpsite' Blaise would later tell him what with the way he'd wrinkled his nose at the Gryffindors.

He took his place at an empty desk before catching a flash of green. So Potter was watching him then, for some reason the realisation brought him none of the satisfaction it would have just a year ago. He was suspicious, not that he'd ever given them any reason to think otherwise, the Chosen One lacked the ability to leave well enough alone. Draco took a deep breath just as Snape walked into the room effectively quelling any last minute gossip, he was glad to find that the combination of firewhiskey and the Draught of Peace (with a few enhancements of his own) had created a heavy sort of calm that clung to him like a wet cloak.

He went through the motions of addressing the class about his expectations for the year, deducted a few points from Gryffindor as was customary then reattled off the syllabus from his head.

"You may begin by handing in your essays," he said as he scribbled something on the chalkboard not even bothering to look in Draco's direction.

As Draco had spent the entire first week in the Hospital Wing and the weekend getting drunk, he had no essay to present, so he merely fixed his gaze on the green grass of the Quidditch pitch, which was barely visible from where he sat, tapping his finger on the desk.

"Mr. Malfoy," he heard Snape say after a moment and he certainly took his time tearing his gaze away from the window.

"Mmm?"

"Your essay," he said pointedly.

Draco inhaled, paused then said, "I don't have it."

"Where is it?" Snape asked his patience clearly wearing thin. People began to fidget.

Draco felt a smirk lift the edges of his mouth. "Excuse me sir, I meant to say I didn't do it."

Snape glared at him and Draco resisted the urge to look away. He couldn't understand why he had spoken to him that way, usually he reserved the antagonism for less amiable teachers yet he could not bring himself to be sorry for it, the words had seemed to flow from his mouth unbidden. Perhaps it was a reaction to the bite affecting him in some unseen way.

He could feel his heart pounding. Being disrespectful to Snape was known to be quite a rush.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Snape declared. "And I expect to see you after the lesson."

Well, if they hadn't before, the other Slytherins hated him for sure. He felt like he could laugh but somehow he couldn't bring his muscles to do much more than twitch.

{HPDM}

"This way," Snape said pointing him through to his private quarters.

The lesson had ended five minutes ago as Snape had made a great show of gathering the pieces of parchment bearing the essays he had assigned until he was sure everyone was out of the class.

Draco was not sure what was coming but he had a feeling it would not be good.

Having been to Snape's quarters enough times prior, he stepped through the portrait hole after Snape murmured the password ('ad gloriam vola') and settled himself in the ratty blue armchair which was where he always sat when he came to see Snape.

Once the door shut behind him the Potions (Defense, now) master rounded on him.

"Have you lost your mind?" he hissed strings of greasy hair flying round his face.

He debated telling Snape he was using way too much Sleakeazy's.

"No, just my human life," he responded and for a moment he thought he saw something soften in his godfather's eyes but he dismissed it as the effects of combining alcohol and a slightly modified (yet more dangerous) Draught of Peace.

"Get up," the man said taking Draco by surprise.

He rose a little unsteadily, something Snape seemed to notice and dissect with narrowed eyes. Without warning the man placed a hand on his shoulder and used another to direct his face so he could examine his eyes. For a moment Draco feared Snape would notice something was amiss- his father would hear about it for sure, his godfather would think he was doing the right thing, acting under his godson's best interests.

"I'm not sure what exactly it is you're hoping to see-" began Draco thanking Merlin his voice did not waver but the professor did not let him get far.

"What is it?" Snape demanded.

Draco frowned. "Really, Severus, I don't know what-"

"What. Have. You. Been. Taking?" he demanded shaking him slightly with each word.

His tone indicated he would not ask again.

"Nothing," he said and Snape's eyes narrowed in obvious disbelief. "Except Pomfrey's pain relieving tonics which taste about as good as slime."

They were also mint flavored.

Snape released him with a sharp jerk of his hand then but looked far from convinced and Draco knew he would have to be careful in the future if he wanted 'it' to escape his godfather's knowledge. After all, it wouldn't take long for an expert brewer to find out.

He took Snape's turned back as an opportunity to collect himself stuffing his hands into his pocket so that his godfather would not see that they were shaking. Overall, the Draught of Peace was doing its work well enough.

Expert brewing.

It was a pity he had to keep it to himself.

"Well, whatever that little display in my class was, I will not tolerate it," he said moving to his desk with a swish of his black robes. "Think about that before you speak the next time."

Draco dismissed it with a wave and moved to the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

"If I remember correctly, you wanted to see me," he said.

Snape nodded.

"I have began work on the wolfsbane potion," he said and Draco's face was suddenly expressionless. It could only mean he had not found a cure, not that he had been hoping much for it. "You will return here in two weeks to collect it then I will accompany you to the Forbidden Forest to oversee your... shift," he said the last word with no small measure of dislike.

"Is that all?"

"No," Snape said ignoring his impudence if only because he knew it would infuriate him further. "I have written to your mother and father, they will be seeing you this weekend in the headmaster's office."

His blood run cold at that and his throat suddenly felt very dry. He opened his mouth to speak but the words escaped him.

"I will take your quiescence as comprehension," he went on. "Be there by five."

Draco sat there unblinking for a moment before his lungs began to burn and he realised he was not been breathing. He could already see the scowl on his father's face... see his hands white with fury... hear his sharp words, how long would it be until the Dark Lord found out? What would he do to him then?

"Dumbledore wished me to inform you that you would not need to see him today. As it is, you may leave now."

"What about... The Dark Lord?" asked Draco swallowing past the lump that had risen in his throat. "Does he know?"

Snape crossed his fingers before him. "I intend to bring the matter to his attention as soon as possible."

Of course. It was better that way, wasn't it?

"I will do my best to soften the blow," Snape assured, "but I doubt he will very pleased."

Draco inhaled.

As though a thought had just occurred to him, Snape said, "Stretch out your left arm."

Draco's head snapped up. Why should he? Snape already knew what he would see there, he'd been there when The Dark Lord had marked his newest followers, what did he need to see it again for?

The impatient glare he received made him do as Snape asked.

A gasp escaped his lips.

Nothing.

His arm was as unblemished as it had been before he had been marked. Would this anger The Dark Lord? Would he insist on trying to mark Draco again? Would it work? He was glad to be free of the wretched thing (he had learned when they day neared that serving him was not as glamorous as he had made it out to be in his earlier years) but he couldn't help thinking of the implications it bore.

One step forward, two steps back.

"Hmm," was all his godfather said.

Draco however could still remember the pain that had courses through his veins that day... the high cold laugh of The Dark Lord... his mother's shaken expression, how she had turned her head away because she could not bear to watch. How his father had not even deigned to show up.

He got to his feet, somehow remembering to walk but he had hardly reached the door when Snape spoke.

"I hope you are aware that you may speak to me, Draco," he said almost silently, in a rare moment of kindness. "In confidence. You can tell me anything."

And it was more than he could bear so he left without looking back.

{HPDM}

*Ad gloriam vola- to glory I fly


	3. Chapter 3

Where do we go nobody knows,  
I've got to say I'm on my way down,  
God give me style and give me grace  
God put a smile upon my face

God Put a Smile Upon Your Face  
Coldplay

Word count: 4354

The rest of the week passed faster than Draco had hoped. The rumours died down- eventually, in part because his presence provided no fuel for them. Aside from the incident in Snape's classroom, he had been what one could almost label a model student. He remained silent during his classes, avoided Pansy and Zabini as much as he could during the day and locked himself in the boy's washroom to down more firewhiskey than he'd promised himself he would along with a variation on the Pepper-up potion that... well, helped him 'pepper up' when necessary (though this was reserved for the rare moments when he would need to seem normal, like this weekend).

It was a lot of work to brew too.

On Friday evening, he stumbled into his dormitory dead tired and looking forward to a drink before he fell asleep only to find Blaise and Pansy waiting by his bed. His trunk lay open a mere three feet away and for a moment Draco's heart stopped; they could have spotted the vials hidden beneath his pyjamas, how could he be so careless? "This is the boys' dorm," was all he could think to say (at which Pansy snorted) but if they wanted him on unfamiliar ground this was it.

Not so much their presence but what they might discover should his mask slip even for a second, they knew him best after all.

They were not like Crabbe and Goyle who had been quick to distance themselves from him at the warning of their parents after the fiasco at the Ministry. Draco tried not to think about his father who had only managed to escape capture by a hair's breadth. There was nothing the head of the Malfoy house could do now. It was all up to him to restore his family's lost glory in yhe eyes of The Dark Lord. All he had to do was complete the one task...

Anyway, Crabbe and Goyle had never truly known him and they had never been more than cronies who (he was still horrified to think) he'd kept around for their imposing build. Pansy on the other hand, although she was perhaps a little smitten with him and rather vain, was one of the most loyal people he had ever known. Zabini, he didn't know as well but the boy seemed to owe allegiance to none but himself which whilst being a dangerous characteristic was something Draco valued because one needed to be ready to do anything these days.

Pansy hummed. She was dressed in a short grey skirt that he was certain was not school uniform and the first three buttons of her long sleeved white blouse were undone revealing the edge of her lacy black bra. "I hadn't noticed," she said as she gathered her inky black hair in a high ponytail and made herself comfortable on his bed.

"We need to talk," Blaise said peeling himself from the bed poster. He looked as always: shirt untucked, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His dark hair framed his forehead falling into his eyes each time he bent forward. New haircut then.

"We don't want you to think we're attacking you-" Pansy started her attention partially held by her manicured nails.

"But that's what you're doing, isn't it?" said Draco. "Waiting to ambush me in my own room-"

"It's mine too, Theo's as well," interrupted Blaise earning a deadly look.

"-the room," he continued with a note of annoyance in his voice, "like I'm some sort of criminal."

"Draco please," Pansy said looking up from her nails unfazed by his outburst. "We're your friends for Merlin's sake."

"And you've been bloody avoiding us," Blaise said crossing his arms projecting the air of a displeased child.

Draco glared at him. He hated it when they asked questions because his mind would give the real answer (which he'd try very hard to ignore) whilst his lips fabricated some revolting lie. He couldn't help but feel they deserved more- better- than him, his lies. Merlin, he hated not feeling like enough, he hated not knowing how to deal with feeling like he was worth no more than the dirt beneath their shoes.

For Merlin's sake! He yelled at his mind. Can't you get through one stupid conversation?

"Well if I knew you'd be this clingy-" It was another one of those lies that he regretted as soon as it left his lips but that he would not take back.

Could you take back words?

He wouldn't know, he'd never tried.

"Draco Malfoy, don't you dare," Pansy warned the look on her face quite furious as strands of dark hair that had escaped from the bun framed her pale face. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way- he hadn't- his head was just too loud at the moment. "Don't you dare try to spin this on us, for once in your life grow up and face life as it is. You went into that forest, something happened, what?"

He was stunned for a moment but he recovered quickly.

He was not pleased with Pansy telling him to grow up, after all, hadn't that been what he'd done all summer? He had been forced to grow out of his childish behaviour fast right about the time The Dark Lord began living at the Manor? Each night had been a plague of endless nightmares knowing he was living under the same room as that... that nightmare. He couldn't sleep properly because he was constantly afraid the door to his room would swing open and The Dark Lord would inch in whispering words of dark magic...

Merlin, his dream had been shattered before his very eyes and there had been no one to help him put the pieces back together.

"I got lost."

Blaise laughed mirthlessly. "Cut the crap, Draco. We've snuck down there dozens of times."

He could either continue to lie until he fabricated something believable or he could spare himself the trouble and tell them truth before hexes started flying. Rubbing his temples, he sat down on his spotless bed, beside Pansy, with a weary sigh.

She folded her hands on her laps and waited.

The silence seemed to stretch on, coaxing the words out of his mouth.

"I was taking a walk to clear my head," he said because no way in hell was he going to tell them he was experimenting highly addictive potions on himself. They knew the task that had been delegated to him by Voldermort so they had no reason to doubt him. "A werewolf appeared out of nowhere, next thing I know I'm waking up in the Hospital Wing."

"What are you saying?" Blaise asked deep brown eyes narrowed, brow creased.

"What I'm saying you bloody idiot," he said ripping off his scarf for them to see his neck. "Is that it attacked me. And bit me."

Pansy gasped. Blaise just watched him silently from behind his dark bangs, his face revealing nothing. Draco knew that expression, it was one of his, he remembered teaching it to Zabini back in fourth year when he'd had nothing to do but wish for Potter to lose the damn Tri-Wizard Tournament. He'd been so young and stupid then, so utterly clueless... but he wasn't about to berate himself for mistakes of the past. What use was there for it?

"Do your parents know?" Pansy asked.

Draco swallowed giving her a silent nod.

"When?" asked Blaise.

"Tomorrow," he choked out.

"Oh Draco," Pansy said pulling him into a tight hug, strands of her hair tickled the back of his neck. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I-" he searched for the right words. "I didn't know how," he finally said.

The first true words he'd said in a while. He wondered if he would feel relieved if he wasn't already carrying around a burden.

"Is that why you've been skipping meals and sleeping less?"

No.

"Yes," he forced out.

His streak of honesty hadn't lasted long.

Blaise still watched him carefully but Draco could care less, he didn't have an iota of proof, he should have known better than to use Draco's own glare on him in an attempt to squeeze something out of him. Pansy unwrapped her arms from his body and he seemed to recall having told her he didn't like hugs but he knew she was doing the only thing she thought would comfort him.

"We're here for you." She saw the look of utter misery on his face and was unable to resist hugging him again. A second later, he felt Blaise join in.

In that moment he wished he could feel something more than the need to rip out his own heart.

{HPDM}

The next morning Draco woke with a pounding headache and cursed within the silence afforded him by the drapes around his bed. He'd had a restless sleep after having been awake most of the night because of the nightmares. He'd known better than to drink because Blaise had an eye on him and was a light sleeper. Pansy may have been one of the most observant girls he knew but there were some things a guy would notice faster. Like if he was drinking potent potions to the early morning hours and singing horrible renditions of muggle songs he'd heard during the long Summer holiday.

He could never remember which, the words just seemed to flow from his mouth.

It hadn't been easy but he had managed to acquire a few records of what he could only assume we're famous muggle artists. The likes of John Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, Supertramp, Metric, Fallout Boy, Guided by Voices, Greenday, Nickelback were but a few names he had stashed in his room. His father did not know, no one knew, that he sometimes liked to play those records on a gramophone he'd discovered discarded in the attic.

If he played them enough times he could even sing along. He found the lyrics strangely relatable.

It was all part of something he liked to call 'The Cultural Rebellion', a way to feel in control of his life, even the smallest part because those songs were his; his father, The Dark Lord, the world, could not take them from him and taint them.

"I'll get through this year if it kills me," he told himself.

Soon the pain in his head returned to the forefront of his brain and he clutched at his head with a grimace.

Grumbling to himself about finding a spell to fix headaches soon, he reached into his trunk and drew out two vials, one half full of a viscous mauve liquid (Draught of Peace) and another quarter empty of a gold-colour liquid (Pepper-up). It took him a moment to work the dosages while factoring in how long he wanted the effects to last before he decided on five sips of the Draught of Peace which would serve to calm him down and two of the Pepper-up to give his body some life because his parents would be most suspicious if he was too calm.

He tucked the vials in the bottom of his trunk and in good time too because Blaise was pulling aside the drapes around his bed. "I see already you're up," he commented. "Pansy wants us to have breakfast together."

Feeling the effects of the potions, he drawled. "Really, did she crawl into your bed to tell you that?"

Something flashed in Blaise eyes akin to excitement, he grinned. "Oh Draco, you know you're the only one to ever have that privilege."

He didn't speak until they were seated across Pansy at the Slytherin table where she took it upon herself to remove the silencing charm Draco had cast, even then it was only to promise him that he would hex him blind after he enjoyed a plate of bacon and fried eggs.

{HPDM}

Harry had been unable to look away- though in all honesty, so had everyone else- when the trio made their appearance (not the Golden Trio, the other trio). They certainly knew how to arrest everyone's attention by their mere presence. Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy strolled into a silent hall and settled at the Slytherin table as though they owned the bloody building.

However, it was Draco's presence that garnered attention most. Granted, the rumours of his nightly visits to the forest had died down but that was because he had hardly been seen around the school and even then he'd seemed oddly silent, reticent even, which was unnatural for him. Harry watched transfixed as Pansy cast a spell on Blaise who said something to Malfoy as he loaded breakfast onto his plate that made the blonde smirk. It was not the action that surprised Harry (he'd been on the receiving end of worse from Malfoy) but the lightness in his eyes which he had never actually seen, it was strangely... refreshing.

He said something to the table that made the Slytherins in his vicinity burst into fits of laughter. Those that were not close enough to be privy to the joke looked up from their breakfast with envious eyes. It was as though the king had returned and the world- their world- was the brighter for it, each of them seemed to want to be a part of Malfoy's inner circle.

The shepherd had returned to his lost sheep.

Malfoy looked, up his eyes scanning the Great Hall and Harry knew what was coming but he could not look away even as Malfoy's gaze met his and the lightness in those grey eyes was instantly replaced with coldness. He looked away refusing to listen to any thoughts that popped his mind about that sudden change. It was Malfoy, the same look had probably been mirrored on his own face.

"What is it?" asked Hermione following his gaze before quickly looking away.

"I don't know," he said cutting Ron off midstream. "Something just seems different."

"With who? Malfoy?" Ron scoffed. "He got trampled by a herd of hippogiffs last week, of course something's different. Kind of deserved it, if you ask me."

"Ron," said Hermoine swatting his arm.

"I'm just saying, he's a big prat and he got what was coming to him. Hope there's more where that came from."

Knowing how much Ron had suffered at the Slytherin's hand, she let it go, what could be much worse than getting trumped by a herd of hippogriffs? Harry however, knew there was something more, something Malfoy was hiding and seeing as he may or may not be a death-eater (depending on whether you believed Hogwarts gossip or not), it couldn't be something good.

There was also the fact that Hermione, Ron and Mr. Weasley all seemed to believe that Voldemort would not induct an underage wizard into his circle of Death Eaters. But Harry knew otherwise and in that moment he wished he could write to Sirius- his advice would be welcome and he would most definitely agree with him- but Sirius was gone, killed by his own deranged cousin. Harry had lost the last remaining relative that didn't treat him like dirt.

"Anyway," Hermoine said clearly trying to distract Harry from his musings which he let her do because he really didn't want to worry about this on such a good day. "Quidditch tryouts are coming up, how's practice going Ron?"

Ron choked on his pumpkin juice and Harry had to suppress a smile.

"Er... good. How... How did you-"

"Please Ron," she said with a haughty sniff, "no one simply forgets to complete Snape's homework."

"Oh," he said shifting uncomfortably. " Well, Harry's helping me so I suppose I'll do well enough."

"Speaking of which, we should get going if we want to be back in time to complete out homework," Harry said.

Ron finished his breakfast before getting up from the table. "See you," he called to Hermoine.

"Make sure you finish your homework," she called to Harry as he left then shook her head a small smile on her face.

{HPDM}

As Draco had nothing else to do until five o'clock, he busied himself with completing his homework and catching up on the classes he had missed, Blaise and Pansy were more than happy to help though he suspected they just wanted to keep an eye on him. Just as well or he would have snuck off at the first opportunity, he had a couldron of Draught of Peace brewing up in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and one of Pepper-up on the fifth floor- one could never be too careful he had always been told.

After he had finished practicing Flitwick's assigned charms, completed two DADA essays (each a foot longer than the required length), double-checked his Arithmancy homework and corrected spelling errors in his History of Magic essay, Pansy insisted they plan something fun to do the next day.

She was trying to distract him from the imminent meeting and he found himself grateful for it.

"How about a swim?" she said.

"Where, the Black Lake?" snorted Blaise and Draco agreed.

There could be anything down there for all they knew.

"Where else, we can't very well conjure up our own pool and Hogwarts doesn't have one."

The memory of the lazy summer days spent laying by the pool at Malfoy Manor returned to Draco. He could see Pansy swimming laps around the Olympic-sized pool claiming that she had to keep in shape, Blaise atop a fold-up chair dressed in swimming trunks reading some book or the other he'd nicked from the Malfoy Library and Draco himself content with swirling his feet in the water, never knowing, never appreciating how much he had in that moment.

"Come on, Blaise," Pansy had called from the water as she placed her arms on the warm ground, resting her head on them her hair framing her face like an impenetrable curtain. "The water is simply marvelous."

"No thank you," came the reply.

She huffed. "I will remove you from that chair and dump you in the water if you don't look up from that book for a second."

He looked away for a second.

"There, happy?"

She hadn't been.

Pansy had surfaced from the water in a wave of fury, droplets of water flowing from her curvy body like rivulets as she stalked toward Blaise who had no knowledge of the danger that approached him like a dark cloud. She ripped the book from his grasp flicking droplets of water in her wake. Blaise's nose wrinkled.

"I was reading that," he had said pointedly.

"Well, you can take a break now," she had replied her hands resting on her hips.

He had looked up at her. "What do you suggest I do, take a swim?"

"Precisely."

"I don't know Pans," had been his response then as it was now, with a distant scowl on his face.

Of course.

Draco couldn't help himself. "I think it's a good idea, before it gets too cold."

Blaise shot daggers at him.

"I owe you a jinx for that silencio earlier."

Draco coughed. "Assuming you could keep up," he said getting to his feet.

He could hear Pansy's shouts of laughter as she followed behind Blaise who gave chase after Malfoy. They ran until their legs gave out and they collapsed in the grass their breath coming out in short quick puffs, contented smiles on their faces. "This is nice," Pansy said. Blaise snorted but he had a small smile on his face too. "I don't want it to change, promise we'll stick together no matter what."

Draco's face fell as the unwanted feelings rushed back in. To Pansy's left, Blaise had sobered as well, all traces of laughter had disappeared from his face.

"I thought we did that last year," he grumbled.

But Pansy had made up her mind. "Promise."

Blaise sighed but drew his wand and marked a cross above his clothing where his heart would be. "Promise," he said.

Pansy did the same and they watched Draco expectantly. He took out his wand trying to stop his fingers from shaking, he gripped the wood hard and marked his heart with a cross as well. Everything would change, he had a feeling, and it would not be for the better. He would be happy now though, because before long he would lose all reason to feel so. "Promise."

{HPDM}

Draco walked up the steps to Dumbledore's office at five to five that evening, no need angering his parents by arriving late but he wasn't going to arrive early either, it would be unlike him. The statue guarding the headmaster's office slid past to admit him into the large office. The headmaster himself was seated at his desk pouring out cups of tea, Snape stood to his left looking very much like a stone statue. He recognised his father's long blonde hair and his mother's petite figure. "Oh Draco," she said when she saw him. The look in her eyes was not the one of horror which he had expected but one of worry and the fierce need to protect which only a mother could possess.

She embraced him deeply and Draco saw a muscle jump in his father's temple.

He forced himself to break away from his mother. "Father," he said by way of greeting. The man regarded him with a cool gaze his expression betraying nothing.

"Draco," he replied pressing his mouth into a firm line.

This would not go well.

"Pleasantries aside," said Dumbledore attempting to rid the room of its heavy tension, "have a seat." They all sat down except Snape who continued to stare ahead, unmoving like some sort of guard.

"As you well know, young Mr. Malfoy here had an unfortunate encounter in the Forbidden Forest about a fortnight ago with a werewolf," he paused to let the information sink in but it seemed his parents had had time to compose themselves earlier.

Dumbledore sipped his tea as did his mother whom he knew to be picky about how her tea was brewed. His father merely sat ramrod straight appearing to absorb the information Dumbledore was giving them though it was obvious he'd heard it before as well. He silently thanked Snape, this could have gone far worse, even though it wasn't over yet.

"He hasn't shifted yet, as you know the full moon is in a fortnight, but I can assure you every precaution has been taken ensure he will continue his schooling comfortably," Dumbledore was saying.

Draco noticed a cup of tea had been poured for him as well, beside it was a plate of cucumber sandwiches with mayonnaise spread on the bread and the crusts taken off, precisely how he liked it. He would have eaten it except his father was looking at him like he did not know him and something in Draco broke despite the years he'd spent putting up his walls. He felt disgusted by himself, he wanted to crawl out of his own skin.

Even the Pepper-up potion couldn't fix this.

"And why, may I ask," began Lucius Malfoy his voice icy, "was a student attacked on school grounds? Do parents not entrust you with their safety, headmaster?"

The headmaster in question bristled at the personal attack. "The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason, Mr. Malfoy and students are never allowed to enter it without the supervision of a professor. However," he said glancing at Draco, "some decide to take matters into their own hands every now and then. That as you know can rarely be prevented, only rectified."

"You don't say," he said fixing Draco with a look that said his Easter holiday would not be so pleasant. "And tell me Albus, how can you hope to 'rectify' my son now? Not even Severus could create a cure for Lycanthropy and I will not have my son-"

"What?" questioned Draco silently unable to let the words leave his farther's lips, he didn't think he could stand hearing them. "A monster? A disgrace to your pure blood standing? Well guess what," he rolled up his left sleeve and held out his arm. "It's too late for now."

His mother gasped, a look of horror on her face. "You will conduct yourself properly, Draco. Roll up your sleeve." Her tone left no room for argument and he did as she asked.

The headmaster to his credit looked perfectly oblivious (as though cucumber sandwiches were the most interesting thing he had seen lately) but Draco knew he had known all along that he was marked (and perhaps that the mark had disappeared), very little happened within the castle walls (or out of it for that matter) that he did not know of.

"He will remain here because I trust Snape to guide him, otherwise I would have removed him from this school at once." He turned to look at Draco only once before he rose. "If you will excuse me, I have meeting with the Minister of Magic in a few minutes. Narcissa."

She stood and hugged Draco again. "Write to me, alright Draco?"

He nodded mutely wanting nothing more than to keep her close but this time she was the one who pulled away from him. And he was forced to watch as she took his father's arm and left, he choked back tears. That was it, that was as polite a rejection as he would get from his father and it hurt, more than he wanted to feel.

He needed to calm down, he needed the- the calming draught. Now.

Ignoring the headmaster's voice, he fled to the only place where he could relax, the sixth floor washrooms. He would be fine after he took the draught, just a few sips and he would forget it all.


	4. Chapter 4

They say we are what we are  
But we don't have to be  
I'm bad behaviour but I do it in the best way.

Immortals  
Fallout Boy

Word count: 5382

Draco did not know how long he was in the sixth floor washrooms, all he knew that was the he had last been seen in the Slytherin dungeons when he rushed in to grab a few vials of firewhiskey then returned to the washrooms. He had only been lucid long enough to finish brewing a fresh batch of Draught of Peace before downing the equivalent of two pints of the last batch accompanied by three pints of firewhiskey.

"Malfoy, is that you again?" he heard a high pitched voice ask from the last stall.

Moaning Myrtle was hovering a few feet away from him with a concerned look on her pale features. It would have irked him had he been sober but he was too inebriated to care. She was a ghost, there was little she could do to stop him, even if she wanted to.

"'s usual," he slurred.

"It's just," she sniffed, "you hadn't been here in a while and I thought..."

"Thought what?" he asked his eyelids half shut. "That everything would be alright... after a few drinks?"

He laughed mirthlessly.

How naïve of her to think she knew what would fix him, what would 'rectify' him like he was some broken toy whose pieces had been smashed so badly they could not be put together right. She thought just because he visited her washrooms every now and then to get sloshed she knew him. He wanted to yell, to curse and scream until his throat ached and his voice disappeared.

It was never okay for long enough, temporary relief was what kept him coming back whilst being the single most irksome thing he had ever encountered. If they could see him now... they would laugh, scorn him...

"Draco-"

"'s just Malfoy actually." There was no hint of annoyance or hate in his voice.

The alcohol had washed that away.

Myrtle was not the problem, she was just unwanted company he could not remove.

"You have to stop," she may have been begging- not that he was in the right state to tell- but if she was then she was wasting her time.

"Why should I? They won' and I can' either," he said as the words of a muggle song popped into his head. His head bobbed back and forth as he sang, "Now watch what you say or they'll be calling you a radical. Liberal, fanatical, criminal."

Myrtle looked petrified.

"What are you saying?" she asked.

Draco's head continued to bob back and forth, the rest of lyrics unknown to him but the tune a very familiar one which he hummed as loud as he could.

"Are you in some sort of trouble?" Myrtle tried once more.

He nodded, the hints of a stupid smile still on his face. "Lots and lots of it." What would she care anyway? Who would she tell? Who would believe her? To the rest of the world Draco Malfoy was the prince of Slytherin, rich, good-looking and lusted after. It was an image he had worked hard to build, one that would save him-had saved him- during hard times.

Times such as these. When he couldn't seem to be able to keep his shit together.

"You need to tell someone, talk to Dumbledore, he'll help you out," she said resolutely.

The irony.

Draco imagined himself walking into Dumbledore's office because he needed to talk. He needed to tell him that there was a threat on his life, a plot to kill him and that the onus rested on the shoulders of a sixteen year old boy. One, granted, that he didn't like very much but one by whom the Dark Lord had decided to exact his revenge.

What a sight!

He shook his head. "Dumbledore 's not going to like it much." He brought his thumb and index finger together, about half an inch apart. "Not even this little."

At that moment he couldn't help a laugh, it was hovering just above his Adam's apple, bubbling on his lips, it just had to be set free. There was no happiness in it, merely a sort of resignation as though he was saying 'Let life take it's course, let it take me with it'.

She shook her head. "I can't watch this, Malfoy. When you swore me to secrecy, if I'd known this is what you meant..." She disappeared down the toilet without saying more a puddle of water the only indication of her presence hours later.

He took another sip and whispered, "They'll eat me alive if I stumble."

{HPDM}

The Slytherin common room was cold and draughty as a tomb despite the roaring fire inside. It was nearing nine o'clock and had it been a weekday there would have been several people in the common room but as it was Sunday, majority of the Slytherins had called it a night immediately after supper with only a handful remaining in the common room to work on various bits of homework.

"Where is he?" asked Pansy as she paced the before the hearth wringing and unwringing her fingers.

It had been three hours since Draco had left for the headmaster's office and she knew for a fact the meeting could not have taken so long. Lucius would either accept his son or he would not, neither would take long to put across for the stern Malfoy patriarch.

"He probably needed some time to clear his head," Blaise said not looking up from a book on Dark Artefacts he had nicked from the Malfoy library over the summer.

Pansy seriously needed to stop infringing on his reading time.

She didn't bother to tell him not to read the book so openly, three quarters the school already believed all Slytherins were dark wizards (and thus bore the Dark Mark) and the remaining quarter would care less if they dropped off the face of the earth. It was, for the most part, a lie but then the Slytherins never did anything to prove this, they seemed to take pleasure in watching the other houses nod and whisper in disgust believing they were right.

They were, as Draco once aptly put it, the perpetrators of their own evil.

"Besides," he was saying. "You know how hard this year is going to be for him." She did. They'd only overheard snippets while visiting Draco but he'd told them in one of his fits of rage that he'd been chosen to kill Dumbledore in order to prove his family's loyalty, to redeem them in The Dark Lord's eyes. Pansy had wanted to hug him, to cry for him because he was already so broken, she wasn't sure he could sustain further damage but she didn't dare, not then.

Draco hated pity and he was not above throwing her out.

Still, if she didn't know better, she would think her best friend was depressed. Severely.

"Do you think he's alright?" she asked and Blaise finally put the book down sensing this conversation would go on for some time. "He hasn't been himself at all this past few weeks."

"He did get bitten by a werewolf, I hardly think he would be jumping for joy," countered Blaise.

Pansy rolled her eyes at that. "I know. But even on the train, he just seemed... off." For one he'd let her stroke his hair, Draco was hardly ever so liberal with acts of affection towards him.

Blaise shook his head.

"It's this thing that Voldemort's making him do- it's utterly crazy. For Merlin's sake, he's a teenager, even a bloody adult couldn't do it."

"Shh," Pansy hissed moving closer to him. "Blaise, watch what you say, we're in Slytherin, half the people here are against us."

"I'm sorry, it's just..." he pinched the bridge of his nose then lowered his voice. "It's not fair that he has to do it alone, you know? And it's Draco, beneath the façade of fearlessness, he's very afraid. He wouldn't say it but-"

"He feels it, I know. He's my friend too Blaise," Pansy said settling on the floor her legs crossed so that she had to lean back slightly to look at him.

Blaise, to his credit, sunk to the floor opposite her, reached for her hand and squeezed it gently.

"We have to do something," she said. "Anything, to help him. I don't think-" she stumbled on the words turning her face away to hide the raw emotion in it- "he can't, Blaise, he can't take much more." Tears found their way down her face. "First Voldemort, then his father, now this- he can't Blaise and I can't watch this thing kill him any longer."

"Shh," he mumbled pulling her into his arms.

She offered no resistance and let his arms encircle her relishing the comfort of having a friend who cared consoling her. This was the only chance she would have to let all her feelings out because Merlin knows she would not do it in from of Draco, never.

"We'll find a way, we have to."

She nodded against his chest.

They stayed that way for a moment, receiving searching looks from a few Slytherins, until Blaise decided that Pansy had calmed down enough to break away from her. She dried her tears with a degree of embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Pansy," he said. "Least of all for caring for a friend."

She nodded, a small smile curving her lips. "Thanks Blaise."

"You should go to sleep," he said then added at her look of indignance, "I'll wait a few more hours."

Eventually she conceded, climbed up to the girl's dormitory and shut the door. Blaise reopened his book and prayed his friend knew what the hell he was doing, wherever he was.

{HPDM}

Harry awoke from a particularly vivid dream with sweat running down his back. He couldn't remember exactly what the dream had been about, just flashes of white and green, too fast to make out any images. He lay in bed for half an hour before concluding that he needed to get out his bed for a little. Snatching up his invisibility cloak, he made his way out of the portrait hole and down to the grounds where he knew Filch would not be (he'd been down there before after facing one nightmare too many). As soon as he set foot on the grass, Harry shed the cloak, sank to the ground. It was a cold cloudless night so the moon cast eerie shadows on everything in sight. He shivered and thanked himself for thinking to wear the warm jumper Mrs. Weasley had made for him.

Flashes of what happened last year found their way to his present thoughts and Harry could not help the pit of fear in his stomach. It was official, Voldemort was really back, amassing followers once more. The thought of having to defeat someone so powerful, with so much more experience... he wasn't even human! He knew he wouldn't be alone, his friends would be there to help him, so would Dumbledore and all the other professors but he couldn't help but feel he would be expected to deal the final blow.

He wasn't ready. He wasn't sure he would every be ready.

He could survive the war, after all he was the kind to act before he thought, but he didn't know if he would survive the aftermath. Would he be able to sleep? Would the faces of those that died plague his dreams? Would he be able to live with the guilt? These were the questions people never bothered to ask. Sure, it was all well and good to expect him to kill Voldermort but they wouldn't be there, they wouldn't be the ones forced to live with the guilt of taking a life, no matter how evil.

He sat in silence as he tried to banish the thoughts. It was too preemptive, he would deal with it one step at a time. Each day as it came.

The minutes passed in perfect solitude- they may have not been the perfect circumstances but the peace and calm were things he knew he should savour while he still had them. When he finally got up to make his way back to the common room (certain he had thought himself into weariness), he realised he had been on the grounds for two hours and it was nearing midnight. Sighing, he wrapped his cloak around himself and took the stairs to the common room. He was nearly there when he heard footsteps approaching him, did Filch never sleep? Slipping into an alcove, he held his breath and kept silent waiting for the footsteps to pass.

They were slow, Harry could see the shadow dance across the walls, whoever it was stumbled on the steps- something he was sure Filch could not do, his was an awkward run-hop sort of gait or a slight limp when he was walking. Unable to take the burning curiosity, Harry leaned (just a little) out of the alcove to see who it was and when a blonde head appeared round the corner, he nearly tripped over his cloak.

Actually he did, although not only from the shock of it but the angle at which he had been craning his neck too.

He landed on his bottom with a loud grunt, the cloak wrenched from him, now tangled around his legs, to reveal his cursing form to a slightly amused Draco Malfoy.

"I must say, Potter," he drawled his speech was slower than usual, heavier. "This is an unexpected delight."

Harry frowned and got to his feet grabbing his cloak as he did. He fisted his fingers in the fabric trying as best as he could to ignore the shiver that wracked his body at that last word.

"What are you doing out of bed?" he asked suspiciously.

"I could ask you the same," he said swaying slightly, "but I can't bring myself to care about the-" he gestured to Harry with obvious distaste- "Golden Boy." He mock bowed at him before sending him a devilish wink that made Harry fight the blush he knew was creeping up his neck to his face.

"Don't call me that," he snapped bunching the invisibility cloak tighter in his hands. "And what's gotten into you?" he demanded.

He was acting strange.

Draco smirked.

"Whatever do you mean?" he questioned with feigned innocence that could have fooled even McGonagall.

"You're acting strange," Harry bit out. "It's unnerving."

Harry did not know how to act around 'this' Malfoy and it made him even angrier than usual. Malfoy had obviously taken something, in fact, if Harry did not know any better he would think he was drunk. Contraband was strictly forbidden in school. Of course Malfoy would have some hidden somewhere.

"Well, I'll do you a favour and let you in on a little secret," he said moving closer. Harry refused to step back and held his ground even as Malfoy invaded his space and leaned in to whisper, "We're all mad in here."

Then he walked down the corridors humming a tune that sounded vaguely familiar to Harry who had missed the tell tale smell of alcohol in his breath.

{HPDM}

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he heard Pansy yell as she stormed into the boy's dormitory.

Several irritated groans were the only answer she received along with a 'get out!' from Theo who'd probably been out till late snogging some Gryffindor or the other. However, she was not a Slytherin for nothing and her steely nerve was one her most damnable traits. She marched right to Draco's bed and threw back the drapes before yanking off the covers.

He hissed. "I will hex the Slytherin out of you if you do not leave right this instant." He was having a splitting headache and had only gotten a measly four hours of sleep, now was not the time.

"Where were you?" she demanded though her voice was considerably less loud this time.

He gritted his teeth. "Out." He had mean meant it to sound like a curt command instead it came out like a plea.

"Where?" she pressed her shadow hovering over his sleeping form.

"The Quidditch pitch, Astronomy Tower, Wash closet, whichever you want."

"We waited for you."

Eyes still closed because he just didn't want to see her at the moment (nothing personal), he said, "Sorry to disappoint."

"Blaise," she called obviously close to breaking point.

"Mmph," said Blaise from underneath a pile of sheets. "It's too early Pans, go back to bed..."

"For the love of-" she swore quite heavily. "The two of you will get dressed and come down to breakfast this instant," she said spinning on her heel.

This got a reaction from both Draco and Blaise.

"Says who?" demanded the former as the latter sat up groggily and tried for an incredulous look.

The loud banging of the door was the only sound they received.

"Women," grumbled Theo sinking further into the sheets.

Blaise looked like he could not agree more.

It didn't take them long to get ready and in less than twenty minutes they made their way down to the great hall before Draco realised with a pang that he had forgotten to take his daily doses. They didn't used to be daily but he couldn't seem to remember when they'd become such a vital part of his existence.

"What?" said Blaise seeing the expression on his face.

"I forgot something, why don't you go ahead and I'll catch up?" he said already turning back in the direction of the dungeons.

"Oh no you don't. She's in one of those moods and I am not facing her alone. Besides," he continued ignoring Draco's raised eyebrow, "you're not getting out of this one easy, she really did wait- until nine even though she was really exhausted."

Draco sighed. "Don't guilt trip me, Blaise."

He absolutely despised the tactic, almost as much as the emotion itself. It was the last thing he needed at the moment. He had learned long ago how to lock those feelings away, if he walked down that path, he would drown in a sea of regret which frankly, he had no time for.

"I am doing no such thing, it's the truth Draco, the least you can do is have breakfast with her. And apologise."

Draco fingers twitched, for a moment he considered making a run for it, it wasn't as though it would take ages to take a couple of potions but he knew it wouldn't be that easy. For one, Pansy's outburst would have woken up the entire house and people would be milling around getting ready for Sunday breakfast (a late affair, more of a brunch really), he also did not want Pansy to worry anymore than she already did, that would lead to questions and he wasn't ready to...

"Fine," he said. They would need to return to get their swimming things anyway. "I hope your swimming has gotten better. For your sake," he added darkly before sauntering into the great hall.

Blaise's growl followed him in.

{HPDM}

It was one of those beautiful days when the remnants of summer were let loose in the last weeks of autumn before the cold really took hold. Because he and Ron had spent nearly half the day yesterday playing Quidditch (and as a result accomplished very little by way of homework) Hermione had made them accompany her to the library until they got it done.

All of it.

Ron had complained, so had Harry. After all, they'd gotten all the homework that was due on Monday done yesterday which should have earned them a homework-free Sunday in their opinion but Hermoine had been having none of it and Ron hadn't stopped scowling for an hour.

Harry looked up from his essay on the different types of disillusionment charms and how they could be applied and rubbed his eyes. "Honestly, Hermoine, the library's practically empty. What harm could an hour in the sun do?"

With a loud sigh that earned her a glare from Madam Pince, Hermione set down her quill and turned to Harry. "Very well, I'll catch up with you two later, don't you dare forget to do your homework."

They promised not to and quickly slipped out of the library. "Where to?" asked Ron conspiratorially and Harry couldn't help a grin.

"How about a lap around the Quidditch pitch."

Ron grinned enthusiastically and they both rushed back into the common room to get into their flying leathers.

"Blimey," said Ron as they shed their red cloaks and walked onto the Quidditch pitch brooms trailing behind them. "It's really is hot."

He had been surprised to find most of the Gryffindors lazing around the common room telling stories or finishing up homework but it was obvious why by now. It was sweltering outside, Harry immediately regretted suggesting they fly but he promised himself they wouldn't be out long then maybe they'd return to the common room to have a relaxing rest of the afternoon. As much as he didn't want to admit it, this was far better than the stuffy library.

Ron seemed to be thinking the same thing because he flashed Harry a grin before mounting his broom and disappearing with a woosh. Unable to contain his own happiness, Harry mounted his broom and followed. They flew around the Quidditch pitch a couple of times before flying around to the castle (resulting in startled yelps from Gryffindors when they tapped at their windows). Far ahead, Harry spotted the Black Lake looking as imposing as ever though he could hardly see much from that distance. "You reckon' the Giant Squid's tentacles are more than a hundred feet long?" he asked as an idea struck him.

Ron grinned mischievously. "I suppose we should find out, no use speculating about it."

Grinning, they raced each other towards the great lake.

{HPDM}

As it turned out Pansy was ready (having changed and brought all her necessities in an emerald green bag down to the Great Hall) and said she'd meet the boys by the lake in exactly ten minutes. Draco was in a far better mood as he made his way up the stairs knowing he would take the much needed potions when he got to the dormitory and the fact that Blaise was shite at swimming.

Oh, he should never have doubted Pansy.

Draco went first once they got to the dungeons and took just a minute longer to take a sip of the draught of peace. It took all his willpower to say no to the alcohol because he knew himself well enough to know one sip would not be one sip once he started and he didn't exactly want to drown in the Black Lake because he'd lost consciousness. It wasn't a bad way to, go but Draco didn't particularly feel like dying today.

He grabbed a change of clothes, a towel and some sunscreen- because one could never go wrong with sunscreen. Once Blaise got what he needed, the two made their way to the grounds ignoring the odd stares from some of the students who happened to be on the corridors. It wasn't forbidden to swim in the Great Lake, not outright anyway and being Slytherin in nature, it was a loophole they would not miss an opportunity to take advantage of.

Pansy was reclined on her towel eyes shut as she soaked up the sun. She was dressed in a black costume (of the two piece variety) and not a very modest one at that because this was Pansy after all, but they were friends and neither boys saw her as more than that though Draco had to admit she had a great body for someone who detested sports in general.

Scheming did consume a lot of energy then.

"Finally," she said squinting and getting up to shake her towel free of dead leaves and insects.

They walked to the lake in companionable silence. "So Blaise," began Pansy her voice too innocent to bode well for the bronze-skinned boy who walked beside her.

"Don't go there, Pans," he warned and she laughed.

Draco snickered.

He gave the two a long suffering eye roll and resolutely ignored them until they got to the lake. They set their things a good few feet from the bank and watched the undisturbed black surface in solemn silence wondering if they were really going to do this and how they'd agreed to it in the first place.

"So how exactly do we go about it?" Blaise asked eyeing the lake like a arithmatician a particularly complex problem.

"Go about what?" asked Pansy dipping a toe into the inky black water before letting out a hiss. "Cold."

"Entering the damned lake," he said gesturing to the water. "Swimming. Not to mention escaping whatever monstrous beasts lay in wait for us down there. How?"

Pansy sighed. "Since you two girls aren't going to get in anytime soon, I'll go first." She waded into the lake until she was waist-deep then waved back at them to follow before disappearing below.

Draco followed, only because it had been a long time since he swam and they were breaking about a dozen school rules. He also didn't want anything to happen to Pansy despite the fact that she had ruined his morning. He motioned to Blaise who was still at the bank ankle-deep in water. "Are you going to stand there all day?" Pansy resurfaced with a gasp and grinned at Blaise. "Well?" she called.

"Alright, alright," he said wading in. "So what exactly are we supposed to do, now that we're here?"

Malfoy shrugged.

"Anything or nothing at all," she said. "You boys get cozy, I'm going to explore."

Blaise smirked then turned to face Draco. "Cozy," he mused.

Malfoy merely scowled at him before disappearing beneath the surface. He'd always imagined he'd be unable to see in Black Lake and had wondered how the Tri-Wizard champions had managed it but it was clearer than he would have guessed, like water with grey sediment. Several feet ahead he could see Pansy swimming through an arch and a thought suddenly struck him, perhaps there were some useful plants for potions down here. Granted, it was unlikely and they may be poisonous but why not study them?

He resurfaced to take a deep breath of air before going as deep as he dared. His fingers closed around a blue plant, it was slippery as though covered in slime, with blue venation. He leaned closer to examine it wishing he could sniff it. He plucked it and put it in the pocket of his swimming trunks, he wouldn't use it until he knew what it was but there was no harm in keeping it. Beside it, was another small plant with a green stalk and pale pink leaves, he was about to take that too when he heard a deep rumbling sound. He turned and saw Pansy swimming towards the surface but she was too far ahead to see him. Had she disturbed something? Knowing Pansy that was a big possibility. He broke the surface and took a large gulp of air.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"The squid... " Pansy panted, a panicked look on her face. "We need to get out..." She was already swimming for the bank where he could see Zabini pointing his wand at something. Draco looked up and saw Potter and the Weasel on brooms. His fists clenched, stupid Potter had to ruin everything. He saw Weasel throw something into the Black Lake and cursed- loudly. The boy seemed to notice him then and Potter froze eyes wide in shock but Draco did not get to savour that look because something wrapped around his leg, something soft and slippery, and yanked him down just as he saw a flash of red.

{HPDM}

Harry wasn't sure what he had been thinking, he wasn't even certain he had been thinking. The minute he saw one of the tentacles drag Malfoy down, he had jumped off his broom and dived into the water, effectively avoiding a curse from Zabini that had sounded suspiciously like Dark Magic. He took a large breath of air before breaking the calm surface of water with a loud splash. Five metres below he could see Malfoy struggling and squirming, his pale blonde hair like a halo around his head, he snorted inwardly at that.

He swam toward the squid and Malfoy froze when he caught sight of him before he continued struggling against the Squid's grip once more, his movements slackened and Harry could tell he was losing oxygen fast. He wracked his head for a spell, something he could use to loosen the Squid's grip until he realised, he wouldn't be able to speak under water.

Malfoy was not moving anymore and the sight of him laying limp caused Harry to panic. He stabbed viciously at the squid but it would not let go, instead it dragged Malfoy deeper into the cold depths of the lake, down to the very bottom. At this rate they would freeze to death. Harry felt himself slipping, he too was running out of air and if he did not get to the surface soon enough...

A flash of green blinded him for a moment and he saw the tip of the tentacle float away. He grabbed Malfoy's shoulder and swam as fast as he could with the last bits of oxygen towards the surface.

{HPDM}

"Malfoy? Malfoy, can you hear me?" Pansy asked shaking him a little.

His eyes fluttered and he coughed water as he sat up. Harry shared a look with Ron and they turned to go. "Where do you think you're going?" demanded Blaise, wand trained on their figures.

"Back to the castle," responded Harry. "Move."

"You nearly killed him, you know that?" Pansy looked like she wanted to squash them to nothing. "You could get expelled for that."

Ron paled but Harry pretended to be unfazed. It was their fault for swimming in the Black Lake, not theirs. Malfoy was on his feet now approaching them with a dark look in his eyes, Harry forced himself not to look away and tried not to notice how the drops of water on his bare chest glinted in the sunlight.

"How were we supposed to know you'd be swimming there?" asked Ron angrily.

"Shut up, Weasel, you wouldn't know a-"

But Harry was already pointing his wand at Pansy Parkinson, daring her to complete that statement. The dark-haired Slytherin bit her tongue and did not say a word though her glare was equally menacing.

"Watch it, Potter," snapped Malfoy, "you might want to choose your battles wisely, especially when you're outnumbered."

"I saved your life, you git."

He sneered. "I didn't need saving, Golden Boy. I didn't ask you to do anything for me."

Harry couldn't believe this, even after risking his own life for him Malfoy still had to be an arse. He felt played for some reason though he shouldn't have expected much more from a bunch of Slytherins. Why did he have to jump off his broom? Because as much as you hate Malfoy, which he did- tremendously at that- you wouldn't want to see him die because you were too interested in the length of the squid's tentacles.

He spun on his heel grabbing Ron's arm as he walked back to the castle. "Let's get out of here."

{HPDM}

A/N: I initially decided to split this chapter into two but changed my mind about it as the next chapter is quite eventful on its own. For those of you waiting for that drarry action, calm your wayward souls, there will be much of that soon, I just need to lay the groundwork before we begin our endless fun ;)

Longest chapter yet at 5.3k words.

Leave me a comment or a follow and let me know what you think.

the silent-assassin x


	5. Chapter 5

All of our life we'll wait for the answer  
And the question is why  
We're just travellers  
In endless space  
If we're following our mind  
We can glide into light  
No one knows if there'll be an answer  
While we're morphing through time

Morphing Through Time  
Enigma

Word count: 4394

"That was dramatic," Blaise said as they pulled on their clothes.

The sun had began to set and with it the last dregs of heat faded away ushering in a cool September breeze. Pansy dried off her hair with her towel as she nodded her assent. "Only Gryffindors would be that idiotic."

"Mmm," Draco said absentmindedly as he fingered the buttons on his silk shirt.

He wasn't paying attention, his gaze was trained forward toward the now calm surface of the Black Lake, he couldn't help that his thoughts had wandered back to what Potter had done (they seemed to have a mind of their own these days). Unwittingly saving his life had put Draco in a very bad position, the thought of owing Golden Boy one, was more than unnerving, it was enraging. He could have fought off the stupid squid, he'd just needed time-

"Draco," Pansy was saying, now fully dressed, her hands on her hips.

He tore his gaze away from the Black Lake and did up the rest of his buttons as quick as he could. "Yes?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, an expression that meant she knew something and only needed to have it confirmed. "Were you paying attention?"

He nodded, he didn't like it when Pansy looked at him like that, it made him feel as though she had the uncanny ability to see into his soul or worse, through his lies. It made him feel naked, bared. He shouldn't be lying to them, they would kill him when (if) they found out but it was like a reflex action he couldn't stop. "Probably the Weasel's idea, he's twice as thick."

Blaise chuckled at that pulling on his pants lazily as he watched the setting sun. "My money's on Potter, he's got spine." Draco wasn't sure he liked Blaise's expression when he said this then again, he shouldn't have anything against it, should he?

"Have you got any galleons on you?" asked Pansy as she wrapped her scarf around her neck freeing the strands of dark hair that got caught in it.

Blaise's expression was cautious. "Five."

"Deal," she said.

"Are you up for a bet, Draco?" she asked while wrapping her swimming piece in a towel and stuffing it into her emerald green knapsack.

He smoothed down his shirt, put on his jumper. "No thank you. I'd prefer not to bet on whose idea it was to murder me."

Pansy and Blaise laughed.

{HPDM}

Potions with Slughorn was like eating dry toast, it scratched and scraped down your throat then left a bitter taste in you mouth. It was evident that Snape surpassed this man in terms of intellect and brewing but there was nothing to be done if his godfather wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts more than potions.

He'd practically jumped at the idea and Draco'd had to listen to all the wonders of teaching DADA and the new ways he could make students suffer and perhaps fail the Golden Boy just a tad while he was at it. His godfather would have spent half his summer going on and on about it if it wasn't for Draco's polite choice to show him the door should he utter one more about the Potter even if it involved making him suffer.

In hindsight, he supposed that was how his father had felt each time he came home for the holiday and could not stop talking about 'Potter this and Potter that'.

"On the chalkboard is the list of ingredients you will require to brew the Draught of Living Death. Can anybody tell me what that is?"

Hadn't they done a write-up last week and been asked the same exact question?

Granger's hand was the first up. "It's a sedative potion which when taken induces a death-like sleep on the whoever drinks it."

Slughorn smiled. "Correct. Five points to Gryffindor."

Beside him, Blaise snickered. "There were days Gryffindor would lose fifty points in a single lesson."

Draco concurred. "They still do, simply not in the same classroom."

"For this lesson," continued Slughorn in his highly soporific voice as though he thought he had done them all some great favour they should be pleased about," I have decided not to pair you up. Do note that I will do so in future lessons. You may begin."

There was a loud sound of something bumping against a hard surface followed by muffled voices. The door to the classroom flew open, Potter and his friend Weasel stepped through into the room looking flustered. The Golden Boy's hair was disheveled as though he'd had the nerve to step out of bed and come to class with it in such a state, his cheeks were reddened and the distinct smell of Hogwarts-issued lemon soap clung to him relentlessly.

His nose wrinkled.

"Ah Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, I'm glad you decided to show up. Pick a book from the cabinet and find yourselves working stations."

The classroom was soon filled with grunts of frustration along with the pungent odour of the sopophorous bean which clung to everything it came into contact with fiercely. Draco ignored its stinging odour and continued to attempt to chop the darn bean but it just would not stay put. To his left, Blaise was clearly having trouble following the instructions.

"No, once clockwise, twice anti clockwise, really Blaise, a fourth year old could do it," Draco said.

"Alright," he grumbled. "No need to be so testy."

"Well, considering that I nearly died yesterday," he said whilst still trying to chop the damned sopophorous bean, "I deserve some leeway."

"About that-"

"No."

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"Something foolish no doubt."

"We're Slytherins, Malfoy. We may be devious, cunning, deceitful etc but we have a code."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "They're more of guidelines really," he mumbled.

"You're in his debt now." Blaise said and the single statement seemed to bring some sort of sick pleasure as though he had the nerve to actually hope for something.

Draco stabbed at the last bean effectively extracting its juice. "I refuse to be bound by- Blaise!"

"What?"

"You're supposed to be stirring it clockwise now, do you pay attention to anything I say?"

"As a matter of fact I do," the olive skinned boy said brushing his bangs out of his eyes and stirring the potion clockwise.

Draco grabbed a motar and pestle. "You're rubbish at Potions."

He sneered and not very gracefully at that.

"Now that we're talking about who's rubbish at what," Blaise said full on ignoring his potion now, his hands on his hips dark hair partially concealing his left eye. "I saw you sniffing at Potter today mmph-"

Draco had sprang across the room and slapped his hand across his friend's mouth. He glared at him teeth grit in a mixture of indignance and disbelief. "Are you off you rocker? You cannot say such things out loud in a joint class."

"Mmph mmmph mph."

"Fuck!" hissed Draco yanking his hand away from Blaise's mouth. "Did you just lick my hand?"

Blaise grinned. "Your fault for putting it there." He went back to stirring his potion (the wrong way). "I'm just saying that if you want to try new things-"

"I swear to you Blaise if you do not shut up this instant-"

Blaise held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. You are so touchy today," he mumbled.

Draco chose to ignore that and focused instead on his neglected potion.

"Having quite a bit of fun, aren't we Mr. Malfoy," said Professor Slughorn standing before him his pudgy features arranged in an expression of disdain.

All eyes turned to Draco and the air in the room was suddenly heavier.

He wouldn't be risking much so he said a little impertinently, "I've always enjoyed a challenge, sir."

The professor clearly knew Draco was being sarcastic but to fault him for anything would appear capricious even for the old man. His eyes narrowed.

"The next time you and Mr. Zabini decide you would like to leap onto each other you will find yourselves out of my classroom. Understood?"

Draco was certain he heard the Gryffindors snicker. "Yes," he grit out his hand gripping the cauldron firmly, almost desperately, then added as an afterthought, "sir." There had certainly been no leaping involved.

Unfortunately, even his brewing skills couldn't make up for Blaise's lack thereof or the fact that Slughorn despised him which therefore resulted in Potter winning the class competition- though he wasn't far behind if you asked him- and he got a chance to keep a vial of the golden liquid. He'd probably use it to win a Quidditch match or worse, give it to Weasel, Merlin knows he could use a bit of luck.

{HPDM}

"M mph bemoph e-"

"If you're going to talk, Ron," snapped Hermione over the copy of Most Potente Potions she'd managed to get Slughorn to authorise her borrowing of, "don't do it with your mouth full."

Ron winced but swallowed the food in his mouth before saying. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"I happen to be studying," she said, "which is what you should be doing if you want to get more than a passing grade on your NEWTs."

Ron grunted then stuffed more eggs into his mouth. Harry doubted Ron wanted more than a passing grade, not everyone was born with Hermione's ambition after all. "I can't believe it's today," he said completely changing the subject.

Hermione shut her book with a loud snap. "You've been practicing everyday for the last week, calm down." Clearly she hadn't been watching all Ron's practice sessions.

Harry nodded despite that. "She's right, mate. You're flying's gotten better, I'm pretty sure you'll make the team."

Ron's fingers began to shake as he lifted his pumpkin juice and he shook his head. "Everyone else will have had loads more practice, I don't think-"

Harry shot Hermione a look, she shook her head in disapproval but Ron's frazzled state was beginning to make him panicky too. "Here." He pulled a vial of golden liquid. Ron's eyes widened.

"Is that-"

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry," Hermoine said.

It really wasn't but Ron wouldn't calm down otherwise and he needed to eat his breakfast in peace.

"Thanks, Harry." He knocked back the potion with a smile. "Let's get out there."

{HPDM}

Draco lay in bed, unable to sleep. The sounds of light snoring drifted into his four poster bed because as effective as the muffliato was at keeping in sound, it did nothing to keep it out. He would have to look into something of that nature soon if only to stave off the boredom and defeatist thoughts.

It had taken more than usual to get inebriated tonight and his supply had ran dry which meant that he would have to face the better part of the morning without a drink. Mercifully, the Hogsmeade weekend was coming up. Pansy had already informed him that he would be going, to which he had consented without much argument. This surprised her which quickly turned to suspicion but she said nothing more on the matter for fear of pushing her luck.

He hadn't found the Room of Requirement yet, it was the only way to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, and if he did not write home soon with good news... Just thinking about it made him want to yell, to break something. "Lacio," he said in a mixture of despair and rage.

The tip of his wand produced a razor sharp white silvery beam. He lowered it to his arm, he dragged it against the pale skin there. The pain made him wince at first and he nearly thought he had misjudged the action but it was soon followed by a deep settling calm which reminded him of earlier days at the Manor spent reading or doing some other supine activity.

It was not an ideal solution but he was desperate for anything at the moment. He wished it would all go away.

He could remember when he had been normal, when Voldemort was just a far off dream and not a monster that lived in his house, when he didn't have to rely on stimulants to get by, when he wasn't some relief seeking monster that was in it for the next high.

But life hadn't been perfect then either.

He was starting to get the feeling it never would be. And perhaps he was alright with that.

The next morning Draco woke to a feeling of filthiness. He had slept six hours, two more than usual, but for some reason his body yearned for more. He rolled over a heavy sigh escaping his swollen lips as he pulled the sheets across his body, he did not want to have to wake up just yet. The cuts on his arm wailed in protest as they rubbed against the soft material of the duvet and he prayed it would bring back that calming effect that sleeping no longer could these days.

He heard shuffling in the room and assumed that the rest were already up, preparing for the Hogsmeade trip. Squeals of excitement that made his head throb wafted from downstairs no doubt a product of the first years' belief of everything they'd heard from older students. He hoped they would leave soon so that he would have the entire dormitory to himself, catch a few hours of sleep then laze around wondering whether he should get something to eat from the kitchens or lay in bed the whole day.

"You better get up, Pansy wants to stop at Honeydukes," said Blaise from somewhere.

"Need... sleep," he mumbled into the cold sheets.

Blaise chuckled.

"She would personally drag you from your bed but seeing as she's banned from here..."

Draco felt something tug at his lips.

"Banned?" he asked opening his eyes.

Blaise was buttoning his shirt and Malfoy caught a peek of bronze skin before he did up the remaining buttons. It did not go unnoticed. Oh how he loved these little games of theirs.

"Pity. At the very least, you will not continue to assail our ears in the throes of passion."

Blaise laughed. "You certainly did your fair share of assailing."

Pansy eventually let Draco and Blaise wander around Hogsmeade when she met up with Parvati Patil at Honeydukes and it was evident tha neither girl would be going anywhere for some time. Blaise said something about getting a new quill and Draco wandered off to the Leaky Cauldron where he proceeded to order two pints of firewhiskey.

He finished them faster than he'd have liked and wiped the back of his mouth with a napkin. His father would be disgusted with him but at this moment he had decided that he didn't quite care what his father thought, he wouldn't be seeing him until Easter break after all. He hadn't quite decided what he would do or say then but it all depended on what the Dark Lord's reaction to his accident would be.

He could imagine Lucius feigning happiness if the Dark Lord found Draco's new form useful and vice versa. He doubted he would be left to the streets though, his mother would not allow it. Even if it meant standing up to the Dark Lord himself.

A small smile graced his lips at that thought.

He should write to her soon.

Draco forced himself to curb that train of thought and focused instead on his current business. The counter was maned by a Tobias Dane whom he ordered a shot from and asked if Jack was in.

"Who's askin'" he said as he polished a glass with a dirty looking dish rag.

Draco fought the urge to retch. "Malfoy."

The barkeep stiffened but went round to ask for Jack all the same. Draco took the opportunity to down the shot in one go stifling a grimace that fought its way to the surface at the bitter taste. A moment later, a thin dark-skinned man with close cropped hair, a stud in his ear and tattoo on his neck emerged from a room in the back. He motioned for Draco to follow. He did. The routine was one he'd followed several times before, once he got to the back, he'd hand over ten galleons for three dozen bottles of firewhiskey then leave the room with a receding smile on his face as though he'd been greeting an old friend.

He ordered two more pints.

By the time he was leaving the bar, Draco Malfoy's sauntering stride had been reduced to an unbecoming sway.

{HPDM}

Harry tapped his finger on the table trying not to stare at Ginny who was seated a few tables behind them snogging Theodore Nott, a Slytherin and not the faithful kind either. He prayed she knew what she was doing because if he tried anything on her, he would have more than two angry friends and an ill-tempered brother to deal with.

"You're staring again," Hermoine said.

"Er... sorry, I was just thinking," he said as he finished off the last of his butter beer.

He saw Ron reach for Hermoine's hand under the table and took it as his cue to leave, he was sure his friends had a few ideas on how they wanted to spend their Hogmseade trip. As he left the Three Broomsticks, he spotted a flash of blonde hair in the crowd. Harry hesitated, should he? He'd followed him to Borgin and Burkes before the start of the term and was none the wiser for it. Maybe he'd actually discover something this time.

He had to walk fast to catch up with Malfoy's long strides but kept a safe distance behind him otherwise. At some point he stopped and Harry thought Malfoy had somehow discovered he was being followed but the blonde dropped to his feet rather ungracefully to tie his shoelaces. He swayed as he got up, put out a hand out to steady himself and continued on his way.

There it is again, thought Harry.

With a jolt, he realised he was losing Malfoy. He jogged down the path and turned round the bend but there alley forked at that point, he could not see Malfoy in either one of them and had no way of telling which way he'd gone. He was just about to turn around, count this as a loss when he heard someone speak.

"Why're you following me?"

So he had noticed.

"I'm not."

Malfoy hummed, a strangely deep sound which did something to Harry's insides that he forced himself to ignore. "What d'you call this then, Potter?"

Harry watched him carefully searching for anything besides the swaying that would tell him Malfoy was using some sort of substance. His eyes were bloodshot, skin pale but that could be from little sleep.

"Alright there, Wonder Boy? You seem a little... star struck."

"I told you not to call me that," Harry said.

Malfoy raised a finger tipping forward slightly. "You said not to call you Golden Boy. Though... I don't think I will, unless you think you can make me."

"What have you taken?" asked Harry.

Some of the light left his grey eyes at that and Harry knew he was not so inebriated as to have lost all his faculties.

"You smelled of firewhiskey," he said.

"And at what point were you in close enough proximity to smell firewhiskey on my breath, Potter?" he asked with venom.

The question startled Harry who floundered around for something to say. Malfoy merely glared at him like he was a particularly nasty bug in his way though no retort came from him, neither did his trademark smirk show itself.

"I... that's not the point," he said a little lamely.

"And what is?"

"You're drinking, more than you should," said Harry refusing to look away from the cutting glare aimed at him. "Why-"

"What I do in my spare time is of no concern to you, Potter," he said.

He stepped closer until Harry could smell him, an infusion of firewhiskey, expensive cologne, sweat and ink.

"Remember that the next time you decide to swim in dangerous waters."

He wondered as the blonde saunter-swayed away, had Malfoy just made a joke?

"Malfoy wait," he said grabbing his wrist. He could feel warmth and the slight flutter of his elevated pulse there, something about it was mesmerising. Harry ignored the fact that his body seemed to act without consulting his mind, especially in situations such as these.

"What?" It was not unkind but neither was it inviting, it was as if the Slytherin had lost the energy to continue fighting but couldn't exactly put up with him either.

Harry couldn't help the feeling of sadness that washed over him.

"I- are you headed back to the castle?"

"Why?" he asked suspicion laced thickly in his voice. He pulled back his hand roughly.

"You shouldn't walk alone," Harry said and nearly kicked himself for it.

Malfoy was quite capable of taking care of himself.

Also, what did he care if Malfoy passed out in the way? Hadn't the Slytherin attempted to get him stuck on the train just three weeks ago? It would be better for the world if Malfoy could just disappear but there was something in Harry that egged him on, a feeling he couldn't quite place, a sensation he wasn't sure he could name. Something was definitely wrong with him.

"You just can't resist saving everyone, can you?" he sneered as he turned away from Harry and began to walk.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself," Harry said keeping up with him. "It's reckless and solves nothing."

"Says who, Potter? In case you hadn't noticed, I could care less what you think." He swayed slightly strands of his too-long blonde hair falling over his back. Harry had to quell the urge to reach out, he noticed an odd bulge in Malfoy's pockets.

Malfoy noticed his stare. "I would be a great deal more comfortable if you didn't take it upon yourself to ogle me," Malfoy said.

"I was not," Harry said perhaps a little too defensively.

"Sure, Potter. Such a body is not for the faint of heart."

"You are completely full of yourself, Malfoy."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he mumbled.

Harry cleared his throat. "What was it today?" he asked because he'd learned long ago that outright asking Malfoy about his drinking problem (which Harry was sure he had) would garner him no answers. Thus the try at subtlety which from the blonde's side glance was not as subtle as he thought.

How could he still be this lucid after obviously having drunk so much?

"Well, it started out with two innocent pints of butter beer," he said holding out two long pale fingers one of which Harry noticed was ringed. "Then I decided to pay an old friend a visit after having a shot then I had about three glasses of firewhiskey- or was it two? I can't really remember..."

"You drank all that?" asked Harry a little shocked.

Malfoy gestured to his teetering self. "Clearly."

Harry couldn't resist. "How did the shot er..."

Malfoy gasped placing a hand on his heart. "The Great Harry Potter has never had a shot? This could make the news."

"Oh shut up," he said. "We only drink butter beer."

"Well you, my friend, are missing out on the finer things in life." Harry tried not to attach too much meaning to the words 'my friend' instead choosing to focus on the path ahead of him. "It's not something I can put into words, you've got to try it for yourself."

He wasn't sure that was going to happen anytime soon but nodded anyway.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't know how to drink it right," he mused to himself.

Harry's brow furrowed. He scratched his head. "Never knew there was a wrong way to do it."

He received a long-suffering sigh. "Some of us actually assess situations before we charge into them, Potter."

"Really? Are sure you assessed this one right because it seems to me-"

"Life is too short to waste time obeying every single rule. You would know everything about that."

Harry snorted. He could see the castle in the distance but if he wasn't mistaken they hadn't been walking fast (they couldn't with all Malfoy's staggering), could time have passed so fast?

"I think the Slytherins would be willing to contest that."

A slow smile curved Draco's thin lips. "I think they would."

A/N: Astute readers and film watchers will notice that I borrowed a line from my favourite pirate: (Captain) Jack Sparrow, it was in the the 1st installment: The Curse of the Black Pearl. Thanks to Jack for that one :)

Also, concerning the colour of the Felix Felicis, I thought I'd clear it up before the questions began. In the film, it was clear in colour but in the book it was gold. I decided to stick with J. K. Rowling's depiction of it hence labeling it gold. Hope that cleared up things for those who haven't read the books.

Lastly, I had not been planning to include selfharm as one of Draco's self-destructive behaviours but the moment came up and it was too natural to pass up. I do not in any way advocate for selfharm but for those that find themselves unable to tame the urge please know that there is help out there and there are people who care. If you know someone who engages in selfharm or other self-destructive behaviour try to help them out of it as best as you can.

Anyway, I just love reviews and comments, do feel free to drop a few of those and I'll absolutely jump for joy. Thanks for all your patience, hope you enjoyed this super long chapter :) (It felt long to me).

silent-assassin x


	6. Chapter 6

I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun,  
I'll be the bright, and black, that's making you run.  
And I feel alright, and we'll feel alright,  
'Cause we'll work it out, yeah we'll work it out.  
I'll be doin' this, if you ever doubt,  
'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.

Love Runs Out  
One Republic

Word count: 5040

The Gryffindor common room was warm and toasty that Wednesday evening of October with students scattered here and there. Halloween was approaching and with it came the rumours that the Slytherins would be hosting a party in their common room. Only a select few would be invited from each house (obviously); there were no official invitations as of yet but even the Gryffindors couldn't help but talk about it. The Slytherins were known for their ability to throw good parties.

In one corner, Ron sat opposite Seamus and Dean playing a game of exploding snap. The boys were in their pyjamas and every now and then cheers of triumph or grunts of frustration would be heard from them. Harry of course, sat with them but it was no secret that he was rubbish at Exploding Snap. Wizard's Chess as well. In fact, the only wizard's game Harry was good at was Quidditch. He too was dressed in his pyjamas, royal blue flannel pants and a grey sweatshirt. He was staring down at a copy of 'Qudditch through the Ages' but didn't appear to be reading it.

On the three seater couch lay Hermione on her back with a comforter wrapped snug around her body. Her brown hair was spread out on the pillows, her elbows propped up on the deep red material of the couch with her hands gripping both sides of a book which she was halfway through. She shifted her position every now and then but otherwise made no sound at all.

Ginny sat on the two seater couch with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. They too spoke about varying subjects though the conversation was centered mostly on gossip and the who's-who of the school. They tried to lure Ginny into the conversation but the fifteen year old girl found herself struck by boredom each time, which was not normal as she had been very happy to gossip and talk and laugh a few months ago. Now, their conversations seemed childish but she couldn't very well up and leave. It would be rude.

"Gin? Ginny," Parvati was saying as she waved her hand in front of the ginger's face. "Are you even listening?"

Ginny sighed inwardly but nodded. "Of course, though I doubt Hannah could have done it, she's a Hufflepuff and a prefect."

Lavender chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "You know what they say: still waters run deep." She looked down at her nails for a moment then her gaze flicked to Ron who had just let out a whoop of triumph and had his hands up in the air, a bright smile plastered on his face. Lavender sighed and a smile formed on her lips as she watched Ginny's brother. The girl wanted to choke but masked it with a delicate cough. Parvati eyed her quizzically. Ginny shook her head.

"Isn't he handsome?"

Ginny had just about had it. "No, not really."

There was nothing 'handsome' about her brother.

Lavender dismissed the comment with a brief glare. "Of course you wouldn't think that, he's your brother."

There sound of a chair scraping against the ground filled the common room as Ron stood up and moved to the table where he and Harry had been attempting to get some study done only an hour ago at Hermione's behest. Dean bid the group goodnight before he climbed up the stairs to the dormitory while Seamus moved to the table nearest the fire to gather his books as well. The game was clearly over.

For now.

Ginny knew that at some point in the week someone would demand a rematch or another go. That's just how the boys worked.

"You should just go for it, Lavie," Parvati said as she raked her fingers though her dark hair.

Ginny was horrified. "Of course she shouldn't just 'go for it'," she said not trying to keep the disgust out of her voice.

"Whyever not, Gin?" asked Lavender earning a cringe on the fifth year's part at the use of the nickname.

"Because," she said and this she thought was pretty obvious. She lowered her voice so that Ron wouldn't hear- he wasn't standing too far from them- though he appeared to be reading something. "He and Hermione are going out."

Parvati rolled her eyes, crossed her legs. She didn't even bother to keep her voice down. "Those are rumours, Ginny. Believe me, I would know."

But Ginny knew that they were not rumours even though it was not necessarily true. Hermione liked Ron and her brother secretly felt the same way even though he couldn't pluck up the courage to say so, to her or anyone else. Ron turned, walking towards them the piece of parchment he had been reading in hand.

"Besides," said Lavender flipping her brown hair behind her back. "Didn't Hermione kiss Victor Krum?"

Ron stopped before them aghast, Ginny's name dying on his lips. The piece of parchment he had been reading fluttered to the floor. Ginny's gaze quickly searched the room for Hermione whom she noticed at some time or another had migrated from the sofa to bed leaving the bright green comforter behind.

"What?" spluttered Ron.

His eyes moved from Lavender (who had something akin to a triumphant smile on her face) to Parvati (who was determinedly looking away) to Ginny. At the sight of his sister he swallowed.

"Is it true?"

Ginny struggled with her words.

"Ron-" she said but her brother was having none of it.

"Ginny," he said firmly.

She bit her lip knowing very well she couldn't lie, certainly not in front of Parvati and Lavender, it would be her word against theirs. She didn't want to spoil what the two had, she had noticed that they'd been getting closer these past few days, whatever she was going to say would ruin anything the two had.

"It was two years ago, Ron," she said throwing her hands in the air. "Surely you can't-"

He didn't let her finish, before the words were out of her lips he had turned and stormed up the steps to his room his jaw clenched a furious look on his face.

Ginny turned to Lavender. "Did you have to do that?"

She feigned innocence. "I thought he already knew." Ginny knew she should have expected something like this from Lavender, after all, the girl was completely taken with her brother, she had been for a long time. At first, it had drawn them closer but of late, it had grown to be too much, she would retch if she had to listen to another poetic verse about the beauty of her brother's simplicity.

She shook her head getting to her feet. "I can't believe you."

"Ooh, I wonder what this is," said Lavender picking up the piece of parchment that Ron had dropped.

Ginny immediately reached out for it. "Stop," she started to say but Lavender's eyes were already traveling down the parchment and Parvati was peering over her shoulder to get a closer look.

"Things to do," she read. "Practice quidditch, finish Potions, DADA and Transfigurations essays, ask _ to next Hogsmeade- Ginny!" cried Lavender for at that moment Ginny Weasley had swiped the parchment out of Lavender's hands.

"That's enough," she said crumpling the list in her hand.

But Lavender and Parvati didn't seem to hear her.

"Who do you think he's going to ask to Hogsmeade?" asked Parvati beaming.

Lavender flipped her hair. "Not Granger I hope."

Better her than you, thought Ginny as she walked away. Surely Ron had not meant to ask Lavender out had he? She had noticed him grinning back at her every now and then in the corridors and the common room. Yet Ron liked Hermione, she suspected and Lavender would certainly ruin things.

How would she make this right?

{HPDM}

As Friday approached, Draco Malfoy found himself increasingly missing classes, skipping meals and sleeping less, though the latter was normal to the point that his body had become accustomed to it. He would later discover that it had nothing to do with his 'condition' as he had labelled it but that his first shift was approaching for which his body was preparing by secreting large amounts of adrenaline. He was currently pacing the sixth floor corridor wishing desperately for something to calm his nerves.

He had nothing on him at the moment, a rather careless mistake on his part but he had promised himself that he would drink all he wanted tonight as long he was lucid enough the entire day. He had built up a tolerance these past few months but he could not risk roaming the halls of Hogwarts drunk, Potter had already seen him sufficiently inebriated twice- one time too many in his opinion. Not to mention the fact that he had fewer inhibitions under influence, why else would he have cornered Potter that way in Hogsmeade?

Well, technically Potter had cornered him but Draco had held a conversation with him, stood to bloody close to him.

Draco who prided himself in personal space dismissed it as the effects of the alcohol, he never hesitated to tell anyone in so many words that boundaries had been crossed. He pinched his nose and looked up, there was no point to thinking about these matters at the moment, he had a task to accomplish.

The majority of the week had been spent searching the castle for some sort of room that appeared to 'someone in need of it'. A dubious description for something he would be unable to see but time was ticking, he could not afford to sit back, the sooner he got over with it, the better. The matter aggravated him even more because he recalled that Potter and his friends has used such a room last year to hold their stupid Dumbledore's Army meetings.

It wasn't as though he could simply walk up to one of them and ask. Even that Marie girl or whatever her name was was still sour about the pimples on her face. He had no choice but to keep on searching. He was confident he would find it, eventually, he just wasn't sure he had enough time to go about searching for it the old fashioned way.

A flash of brown caught his eye, he turned to find a door that had most certainly not been there before. He looked around him to make sure no one was about and stepped into the room. It was large, nearly as large as the parlour at the manor with plush velvet sofas, a glass coffee table with a tray of tea and biscuits, cream walls and a fire roaring in the fireplace.

He took a seat, sniffing cautiously at the tea before taking a sip. A place to relax, that what was he had been thinking, if he needed to find a place to hide something would the room transform into something else? Could it do that or did it always look like the Malfoy Manor parlour? It was a theory he would have to test.

Perhaps after some tea and biscuits.

{HPDM}

When Draco got back to the Slytherin common room that evening, he was surprised to see two letters on his bedside stand. He instantly thought of his parents but dismissed the idea, his mother had asked him to write to her implying that she would be unable to do so herself. Who else would write to him then? He decided to take a look at them if only to quell his curiosity.

The first was addressed to him in in elegant loopy script he did not recognise, the second was a messy scrawl that seemed vaguely familiar. He tore open the first with his wand.

Mr. Malfoy,

It has come to my attention that you have been avoiding our meeting. I urge you to pass by my office no later than a week after your first shift, there will be certain points of interest to discuss. I took it upon myself to procure a 'mentor' of sorts to guide you through this new phase in your life, try not to complicate things too much.

Sincerely,  
Albus P. Dumbledore.  
29/9/96

With hesitation, he lifted the second letter and cut through it. Two pieces of parchment dropped onto his bed. He unfolded the thinner looking piece.

Dear Draco,

Dumbledore informed me of what happened to you. I cannot truly say I am sorry for I too share the same fate and it is no burden to me. He also mentioned that your first shift is approaching and that you will need some guidance, you will find a parchment in the same envelope with a few guidelines. I cannot emphasize the importance of wolfsbane, ignore every instruction but this one for without the potion you have no control over your actions. Do try to stay out of trouble for the rest of the term, I look forward to your reply next week detailing your shift and any other new mannerisms you will happen to notice.

Sincerely,  
R. Lupin

Perfect. Now he had to have continued correspondence with Lupin, a shifter. He lay back on the bed waiting for the familiar wave of hate and disgust to wash over him, there was nothing but emptiness. 'Vacuums do not exist in nature', it was something he recalled reading somewhere, there were no holes, no gaps, no empty spaces; nature always found something to fill empty spaces.

And so would he.

{HPDM}

Blaise sauntered to Draco's bed where the blonde was seated reading a book on Potions he had borrowed from the Restricted Section with Snape's approval. He ruffled Draco's hair and settled beside him. Draco glared at him, smoothed back his hair and made a point of ignoring him. Blaise shuffled closer so he could see what Draco was reading.

"What is it, Zabini?" snapped Draco.

"Well, I was on my way here to get some candy," he paused here which caused Malfoy to cough rather uncomfortably, "when Pansy told me to call you because we're meeting in the common room."

"We?" asked Draco looking up.

"You, me, her, Theo, Millicent etc."

"Tell her I'm asleep."

"You tell her," said Blaise getting off the bed.

"What's this meeting about?" asked Draco.

"The Halloween Party."

Draco rolled his eyes. He could care less about the party. It wouldn't even matter if he was at the meeting or not. Blaise began to descend the steps.

"What about your candy?" asked Draco innocently.

Blaise paused, turned. "Oh," he said as he slinked back to where Draco sat. "I almost forgot about that."

{HPDM}

"I can't believe it," said Ron as the three of them sat in the Charms classroom waiting for professor Flitwick to make an appearance. They had the class with the Ravenclaws who sat on one end of the classroom engrossed in their books only looking away to shoot disdainful glares at whoever spoke too loudly.

"Can't believe what?" asked Harry.

Hermione seating a few seats away from them today and he had a feeling it was because of what Lavender, Parvati and Ginny had been talking about last night. He didn't know why it bothered his friend so much but he was giving them a few days before he thought of interfering.

"Ginny's going to the Slytherin party," he said with a huff. "I don't know what's gotten into her."

Harry sighed.

"Does she know what could happen there?"

Harry decided this wasn't a good time to mention that he too had been invited to the Slytherin party much less by Zabini himself.

"I'm sure she can take care of herself," Harry said as he got out his quill and books for the lesson.

Ron's features pulled into a frown. "I don't trust Nott, he could be using her," he said. "He's also a Slytherin, they're evil and a bunch of death-eaters."

At that, Hermione turned in her seat and said to Ron, "Ginny's not a child. She can take care of herself."

Ron scoffed at that.

Hermoine sighed, obviously trying to keep her cool. "Besides, they're not evil and you can't just accuse people of being death-eaters."

"I'll bet Malfoy is," grumbled Ron.

"Just because he-"

But Ron wasn't having it. "He is. Just like his bloody father."

"You can't prove it Ron, he may be a giant arse but-"

"Why the hell do you care?" asked Ron. "The way you're talking, you'd think you're defending the slimy git."

"Defending him?" she sputtered. "I'm just saying he's... he's different this year, that's all."

Harry agreed, he was not as vile or boastful as he had been in the past, almost like he'd matured over the summer, much like his body had.

Harry choked.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermoine asked the anger draining from her face.

Ron was eyeing him in worry as well.

"Fine," he rasped then cleared his throat. "Just a cough."

Had he just thought that?

It was certainly no secret that Malfoy was one of the most desired yet reviled people in the school (he'd walked in on several such conversations enough times) partly because he didn't care what other people thought of him hence the too long hair, unbuttoned silk shirt and general non compliance to school rules. The rest of it was his air of mystery, he never laughed or smiled in public, unless it was forced, and he did not talk much save with his friends. He had seen it once, when they'd come down for breakfast together, Malfoy had almost looked happy.

He was reminded of the day they'd been looking for the giant squid, a stupid idea but it had seemed good at the time. The glare Malfoy had given him... he could almost see it now, piercing past his skin, wringing his insides...

"You okay?" asked Ron as he set his stationery on the desk.

"Yeah, just thinking about the Black Lake."

Ron scoffed at the same time as Hermoine asked. "What about the Black Lake?" with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"We went looking for the giant squid."

"And?" Ron flashed Harry a look and he shrugged. "You don't honestly think I believe that's all there is to it, do you?"

"Well, Malfoy and his gang were having a swim, stupid idea if you ask me," said Ron, "and we were tossing rocks into the Black Lake-"

"Ron, how could you- you could have gotten him killed!"

A few people were beginning to stare so she lowered her voice.

"It was Harry's idea."

"What? I-" Harry turned to Ron then Hermione as he searched for something to say. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

She shook her head. "I leave you two alone for five minutes-"

"It's not like he didn't deserve it," muttered Ron.

Harry thought of telling them about his encounter with Malfoy in Hogsmeade but quickly dispelled the idea, they would read too much into it, he'd only been following Malfoy to find out what he was up to.

Professor Flitwick stepped into the classroom with a stack of books in his hands.

"Sorry about that," he said placing the heavy looking volumes on the table. "Let us begin."

"Did you practice the charms?" asked Ron as the short man began to speak.

"Of course," Harry muttered. "Did you?"

Ron nodded.

He definitely didn't want a repeat of the last time.

{HPDM}

Friday evening found Draco in the cold drafty Slytherin common room pacing back and forth deep in thought. The full moon was tomorrow, it would be his first shift. To say he was terrified would be an understatement. He had read the other letter from Lupin detailing his first shift plus pointers and tips for first-timers. It had been long and quite... descriptive but Draco had not shied away from it. In fact, he felt a pull to the words as crazy as it sounded, so he had read and reread the letter until he could recite nearly every word.

Then he had replied with a simple:

Thank you.

Draco L. Malfoy

While he was mulling over his lot in life, Pansy moved around the common room overseeing decorations, table placements et cetera. Not surprisingly, the boys were cooperating without much complaint. Mercifully, she had left Draco out of it all; whether or not she knew his first shift was tomorrow he had no idea but she left him to his corner.

He thought of the stash of Firewhisky he had stowed at the bottom of his trunk, he had not opened a bottle all week and he could not think why. He had been tempted several times yes but each time he found himself unable to understand why he hesitated whilst reaching for a bottle. Could it be a reaction to the potions he had been experimenting on? He certainly hoped not, it would be most... unfortunate.

He couldn't very well experiment on anyone else because it would mean he'd have to be their shadow for as long as the potion remained in their system. Blaise was a likely candidate for that but also very transparent, if Pansy found out, it would be the death of him.

Both of them actually.

The next 24 hours were a blur of Halloween decorations wrapped around his pensive mood. The first, second and third years were unable to contain their excitement (one of them had nearly run over Draco on his way to breakfast) but the fourth, fifth and seventh years regarded the rest of the student population with contemptuous glances. There were hushed murmurs from the sixth years concerning the party but that was as far as it went.

Draco found it difficult to pay attention during the day's classes. His senses were heightened, he noticed everything too loud, too clear and exceedingly unbearable. He chose to ignore the fact that one scent stood out amongst the rest, one that called out to him. He ignored it (along with Blaise's words about 'sniffing' Potter) because it was just a side effect of the imminent shift.

At eight Pansy and Blaise dragged him down the steps to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. He was not hungry but Pansy's mothering bothered him so much to the point of eating a few bites. He knew he would need the energy but he could not bring himself to work up an appetite. Everything was too loud, too...

"Draco?" Pansy asked looking up at him.

He hadn't realised he had stood up.

He tried to ignore the pleading note in his voice. "I need to..."

Pansy surprised him with a nod. "Sure. Go do what you need to do."

Draco mumbled his thanks and left the Great Hall unaware of the pair of narrowed green eyes that followed his retreating form.

{HPDM}

Snape was waiting for him by the time he knocked on the door to his private quarters. A tray containing tea and a platter of biscuits had been brought up from the kitchens, the professor sat at his desk reading through parchments, no doubt the numerous essays he had given them over the past month.

He looked up momentarily when Draco shut the door behind him. "You're late."

"Fashionably," he quipped.

He took a seat.

Snape was content with marking the last of the essays in no hurry while Draco sat in uncomfortable silence. He gathered the parchments in a stack putting them away in a drawer before pushing forward a vial of a clear looking liquid.

"Feel free to put it in your tea," he said with a magnanimous wave, "it's about as bitter as- let's see, how would you put it- ah, hippogriff piss."

Draco smirked into the teacup, the nerves nearly forgotten.

Snape stood up once Draco was done. "It's almost time."

"How would you know." It wasn't exactly his godfather's area if expertise.

He did not deign to respond to the statement but trusted Draco to follow behind him once he locked up his office. It was dark, about eight, when they left the office and there was no one about as they made their way through one of the less traversed routes of the castle. On the grounds, Draco hesitated at the mouth of the forest, his godfather picked up on this.

"What is it?" There was a note of impatience in his voice.

He drew a deep breath. "Nothing, a mere flash of pain."

Silence.

Draco's breath misted before him as he said, "You don't have to do this."

He didn't know what made him say it. He knew Snape did it because there was nothing else he felt he could do for his godson but Draco's mind felt fuzzy and he'd thought for a second saying whatever came to it would the relieve the pressure.

It didn't.

"Would you rather I left?"

No.

"Yes."

Draco wanted to kick himself. He was doing it again, of course he didn't want Snape gone, he didn't want to be alone in this, he didn't want to hear the voices screaming in his head but he couldn't seem to get anything right. Merlin, he was losing it.

Snape stopped.

There was no change in his expression. "Very well. The other potion?"

Draco took the Calming Draught out of his pocket holding it against a ray of moonlight to show his godfather the vial was full. He popped the cork, downed the viscous purple liquid and placed the empty vial in Snape's outstretched palm. He received a curt nod in return then the man turned and strode away from him his black cloak billowing behind him.

He slid to the ground, his back to a tree.

Wait, Draco wanted to call but all that came out was a pathetic choked sob.

It started as a spasm, he was unable to move his leg. A loud growl caused panic to spring in his chest before he realised that he was the source of the sound. Then bone ground against bone and Draco wanted to cry out but he bit his lip, blood pooled in his mouth. He arched forward with a cry of anguish dropping to the forest floor where he writhed in agony as his body reformed itself and muscle contracted.

His breathing was laboured, the shift seemed to go on for almost an hour with a short pause as if his energy was spent. The pain was beyond anything he had ever felt, worse than when he had received the Dark Mark... Another wave of pain overcame him, he fell onto his back, a low growling sound escaping his mouth.

When the pain began to ebb he realised the shift had approached its end, fur rippled on his skin as he stepped into the glow of the moonlight and let out a howl. He lifted a limb, swang it through the air allowing himself to feel the power behind the action. Despite his earlier loath to feel anything but distaste for his new form, it felt anything but. If anything, it was liberating.

{HPDM}

Harry knew he shouldn't be doing this but he had been unable to resist. He had been on his way back from the library (Ron and Hermione had been arguing about Ginny going to the Slytherin party) where he had been finishing up on his Divination homework when he saw Malfoy exiting the Great Hall.

Instead of heading to the Slytherin dungeons, he'd gone to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and emerged with Snape. The two barely conversed as they headed for the entrance to the castle and Harry had been compelled to follow them. He didn't know what it was but something pulled him towards them so he had followed behind them at a reasonable pace. The two of them put together was a potent combination, Harry saw this as a chance to figure out whether Malfoy truly was a death eater or not.

It wasn't spying.

Not really.

Once they had gotten deep into the Forbidden Forest, they stopped. Malfoy said something to Snape that made the man stiffen. He said something in reply to which Draco held out a vial of something then downed it. Snape took the vial from him and turned to go. Harry placed himself as close as he could to the stem of an old oak tree and held his breath. It was all for nothing it seemed as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor walked past him without pause.

He moved closer. Draco stood in a little clearing with rays of moonlight illuminating his pale form making his skin appear almost transparent. He watched from behind a beech tree as the blonde raised his face to the moon, lips pulled into a slight smirk, his eyes shut against the white light. His hands followed and he began to sway, rocking back and forth on his feet, his hips moving to a rhythm only he knew. Harry gasped, there was something private, intimate, about his actions and he got the sense that he shouldn't have been watching but he couldn't make himself look away.

Then, slowly, as if he was in no hurry, Draco began to undress. His long pale fingers tugged at the silver and green tie at his neck, tossing it to the ground once it was loose. He went to work on the buttons next, his eyes still shut, his body swaying to a rhythm Harry wished he could hear. He didn't realise that his mouth was slightly open, that his breathing had become shallow, that he felt something fluttering at the bottom of his stomach.

Draco was half undressed now, his shirt, vest, tie and sweater on the forest floor. He reached for the belt buckle at his waist, Harry watched enraptured as he slid the grey trousers down revealing long pale legs. Without wasting any time, his briefs were off too and Harry was left staring at Draco Malfoy naked save for his socked feet.

Suddenly, his eyes flashed open and Harry was overcome by a feeling of mortification. He'd just been caught staring at Draco Malfoy undressing.

"What explanation could you possibly give to justify your relentless disregard or my privacy?" he demanded in a low voice. "What do you really want, Potter?"

Harry was stunned beyond words.

"I-"

"Save it," he snapped.

Harry was about to look away when he heard a deafening scream. Malfoy fell to the ground, twigs snapping beneath his knees.

"Malfoy!" exclaimed Harry running towards him.

"Stay back," he warned holding out his arm.

Harry hesitated.

He bit his lip but before he could do anything there was the horrifying sound of bone snapping against bone punctuated with agonizing screams. Harry wanted to do something but Malfoy's body was changing before his very eyes, his arms were shortening, his torso lengthening, deep brown hair sprouted from his body.

Malfoy gave one last yell before his body crumpled to the ground.

"Malfoy-" started Harry.

The figure that rose from the ground was not Malfoy- not the one he knew. Instead, it was a large brown werewolf. Harry opened hind mouth to yell but the wolf lunged at him, effectively knocking him to the ground. It's dark nose sniffed at his skin then nuzzled the crook of his neck.

A/N: Long chapter, woot woot! Do review and follow. I sincerely love you guys for it :)


	7. Chapter 7

Life can be easy  
It's not always swell  
Don't tell me truth hurts, little girl  
'cause it hurts like hell

Underground  
David Bowie

Word count: 3322

Harry woke to the sound of grunting as well as a sharp pain in his side. He tried to sit up but there was a heavy weight on his torso that prevented him from doing so. He cursed and attempted to wriggle free which elicited a growl from the werewolf that lay above him.

With a jolt he realised that the sky was a deep rosy colour and the leaves of the trees above were dripping morning dew onto his face. He shook his head to get rid of the drops of water that had found their way to his eyes. Had he really spent the whole night in the Forbidden Forest? Had it been a dream or was Draco Malfoy actually a werewolf? Had he really watched the Slytherin undress (a blush crept up his face at that) and turn into a werewolf?

He looked down at the enormous grey werewolf resting on him- so it wasn't a dream then.

"Get off me," he said slowly, still waking up. There was no response. Harry prodded the werewolf. "Get off me, Malfoy." He glanced around at the forest, the sky, it was getting lighter. People would be waking up soon, he needed to get back to Gryffindor Tower. "Malfoy, will you get off me?" he all but shouted. "It's morning."

The werewolf stirred, shifted it's position (trapping Harry even more with its paws on either side of him) and yawned into his face. Harry's nose wrinkled, talk about need for a few breath mints. He pushed at the werewolf with his hands noticing that its grey fur was plush and soft- he had to tamp down on the urge to work his fingers through it experimentally. He took a discreet sniff and could've sworn it smelled something like Draco if you ignored the distinct smell of animal.

The large creature barred its teeth at him before turning round and leaping off him. Harry got to his feet, dusted off his robes then looked pointedly at the wolf which had began to change back. He noticed belatedly that Malfoy's wolf form was nothing like that of Lupin which he had seen in third year. Did all werewolves not look the same? Did it have something to do with the potion that Malfoy had drunk?

It struck him in that moment that the werewolf was Draco Malfoy. His rival was a werewolf, somehow, and no one knew. Merlin, if their positions were switched he knew Malfoy wouldn't hesitate to spread the news all over Hogwarts. Not that Harry was going to do it even though the bloody git deserved it. He wondered if any of the professors knew, apart from Snape that is. Did Dumbledore know? Harry raked dead leaves from his hair. How had Malfoy been allowed to stay in Hogwarts? Dumbledore wouldn't kick him out but his father seemed like the sort to pull him out.

"If you're quite done watching me dress, do you mind explaining what you were doing here last night?" said Draco making Harry jump.

He cleared his throat. "I uh..."

He hadn't realised that his gaze had settled on Malfoy when he'd been thinking. And he shouldn't be the one to have to do the explaining here- Malfoy was a bloody werewolf.

"I wasn't staring," he said a little defensively.

"You don't say," the other boy said rolling down his sleeves before Harry could check for the Dark Mark. He collected his pullover from the ground and walked past Harry pausing only to whisper, "Saw something you like?"

Harry certainly did not feel a tingle run down his spine and he only followed because Malfoy seemed to know his way around the Forbidden Forest. Funny that. "No," he said.

The blonde merely chuckled.

"Is that what happened the night you were found unconscious here, you got turned into a werewolf?"

Malfoy didn't stop but Harry could see that his posture had straightened a little. His hands which were previously held in loose fists at his sides had clenched.

"Morning," he corrected.

"Really?" he asked now keeping up with him. "That's what you're going focus on, the time?"

Malfoy gave him a murderous glare from the corner of his eye. "I've got a lot of things I focus on, Potter. Luckily, voyeurism isn't one of them."

Ouch. Malfoy had always known how to hit below the belt.

"I am not voyeuristic," said Harry crossing his arms.

"You don't say." Malfoy's hands slid into his pockets as was his habit. "You seemed to be enjoying my little show."

Harry gaped.

Had Malfoy just said that?

"I- er... Show?"

The blonde chuckled darkly with a furtive glance at an unknowing Potter.

"Relax. I was kidding."

Harry scoffed.

"As if you would know how to crack a joke."

Dangerous waters, he remembered and wanted to chuckle.

"I will have you know I am very amusing company."

Maybe that's because you love to dance naked in Forbidden Forests, he thought then bit his lip for it.

He shouldn't be thinking such things.

Malfoy's voice was suddenly very serious, his expression unreadable. He began fingering a lock of blonde hair. "Listen, Potter, about what happened-"

"Which part, the shift or waking up with you on top of me?" Harry joked then winced, he hadn't meant for it to sound that way.

Malfoy gave a weak smile that barely reached his eyes. "Both. No one can know. I know you would love to tell the entire school so I'm prepared to be indebted to you for it," he said, the last part punctuated with a look of resignation.

"First, I don't think you can claim to know me if you think I'm going to tell the whole school," he said noting that they had both stopped walking. The sun was almost entirely out by this time. "Second, you owe me two now, I may have been raised my muggles but I'm smart enough to know that's not how life debts work."

Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"Very well," he said as he resumed walking tacitly indicating for Harry to follow. "What do you want?"

"Why are you drinking?" he asked before he could think twice about it.

Malfoy's jaw hardened, he stopped walking (again) and Harry could see that a shadow had descended upon his features. His expression was suddenly guarded and the previously light atmosphere was quashed beneath the weight of that simple question. "That's- I'm not ready to talk about that."

Harry nodded. "Tell me when you are."

Malfoy looked up at Harry.

"What is this?" he asked motioning between the two of them. "Why are you being relatable?"

Relatable? Harry thought with raised eyebrows, that hadn't been the word he was expecting.

Despite that, he couldn't help but think that Malfoy was being relatable as well, it wasn't just him. The Slytherin could have decided to be a prat the whole way and teased Harry for grabbing him in the middle of the night (even though Harry could not grab much less heave a two hundred pound werewolf) but he'd kept his words strangely neutral. As though he didn't want to anger him which was unbelievable but the only reason he could think of.

Before Harry could answer, he heard the snapping of twigs and turned to see that Snape, cloaked in black head to toe- and a smirk of distaste as was his wont- stood before them his look transforming to one of mild shock before resuming an expression of disdain (all to Harry of course, Merlin forbid anyone look at Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin wrong). Harry didn't have time to savour the look of shock though and wished he had a muggle camera or a Pensieve to preserve the priceless moment.

"Draco," he said with a glance at his godson. "Potter." No one could ever look so contemptuous as Snape in that moment. Even Petunia and her horse-like face couldn't muster the muscle coordination acquired only after years and years of glaring at innocent students who were expected to know the textbook by heart by the first lesson.

Harry didn't know what to say to such a curt greeting so he kept silent.

"May I ask you what you're doing here?" This was addressed to him.

"I uh-" Merlin, he needed to think up an excuse fast. Snape would relish an excuse to deduct him a good number of house points.

"He followed me," Draco said casting a glance his way.

Harry waited for Snape's outburst but it never came.

"Well," he said already walking away, "the headmaster would like to see you, Draco. Since Potter is with you, you may bring him along, it's time to get things straightened out."

{HPDM}

Draco didn't like the sound of that, he had a feeling he knew what their conversation with the headmaster would entail now that Potter was here. He's my mate, something inside him said. Indeed he was, from all the reading he'd done the signs were clear enough. Scenting him, watching the crowds for him, standing too close to him- he would be surprised if Potter was clueless on the matter. Then again, he was Potter.

Draco crossed his arms without realising it and prayed to whatever deities were listening for less wind. It wasn't much more than a chilly breeze but it was making it hard not to smell Potter which was making it hard not to grab him and shove him against a tree.

Ugh. Could he be more uncouth?

He supposed he had Snape to thank for the saved dignity. Maybe he should buy him a gift basket or something.

He snickered at the muggle reference.

"Something funny?" asked Potter perhaps with a little insecurity.

He'd never thought the Chosen One would have anything to be insecure about. The old him would have held it over him, mercilessly. The new him constantly wanted to appease the dark haired boy. Honestly, it was getting on his nerves. He shook his head and the rest of the walk took part in silence. By the time they arrived at the castle's entrance it was already breakfast and so the halls were empty save for a few stragglers who were racing through the corridors too fast to notice the bizzare sight that was Snape walking into the castle Malfoy and Potter in tow.

Thank Merlin. Draco wouldn't be caught dead wearing the same clothes he'd worn yesterday. Potter on the other hand seemed to have no problem walking through the halls dressed in his dirty school robes. The bastard even had the nerve to yawn and ruffle his already messy hair. Draco could have cursed himself to oblivion for watching the simple actions so avidly.

Finally they arrived at the gargoyle that stood before the headmaster's office.

"Lemon drop," Snape said.

The gargoyle moved and the three of them crowded onto the steps barely fitting in the narrow staircase. They emerged with aching shoulders and silent grumbles but made it to the headmaster's office where a "Come in." was heard before Snape could so much as rap his knuckles against the wood.

"Aah, Harry, Draco" he said looking up from something that looked very much like a tome nearly as thick as his entire hand. "Do come in."

Harry stepped into the room which was oddly well lit considering the only source of light was half burnt candles that had deposited wax all over the once shiny candelabras they stood on. He walked up to the table and took a seat opposite Dumbledore. The headmaster had just finished closing a drawer and Harry got the sense he had interrupted something. Then again, Dumbledore was always doing something important. Draco settled beside him and immediately reached for the tray of tea and cakes set for them. Snape sat a little behind them, unmoving.

"Lemon drop?" asked Dumbledore.

Seeing as Draco was too busy eating, Harry shook his head for both of them. He ducked as something flew over his head but before he could turn to examine it Dumbledore was already speaking.

"How have your studies been going, Harry?" the headmaster asked leaning forward on the desk bright blue eyes watching him astutely from behind his half-moon glasses.

Harry had a feeling he knew why he had been called here and though he was nervous, he knew it had to be done.

Better the devil you know, they said.

And Harry hoped it was true.

"Alright."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm glad you took the time to stop by, there is much to discuss," he said looking at Draco now.

There was a harrumph from a nearby portrait and the face of a large familiar looking man came into view. "Needs to be taught some manners that one, if you ask me," the man muttered.

"Thank you, Phineas," Dumbledore said holding up his hand.

Of course, Phineas Nigellus Black. He'd seen his portrait at Grimmauld Place, that's why he looked familiar.

Draco set down the empty cup and wiped the crumbs of cake on his lips with the back of his hand. It was an endearingly childish action. His stomach plummeted to his feet however, at the seriousness in Dumbledore's eyes and the stiffness of Draco's posture. There were several other things they would both rather be doing than having this conversation it seemed.

"How much do you know about werewolves, Draco?"

Harry saw him cringe. "Not much."

"I thought so. I will not bore you with the finer details of lycanthropy, as we speak Madam Pince has a list of books I have authorised to be removed from the Restricted Section for your benefit," he said clasping his hands together. "You may return them as soon as you have finished with them."

"Surely Albus you don't mean to say one of these boys is a- a werewolf?" asked Phineas with a mixture of horror and surprise.

"That is exactly the case," Dumbledore replied.

There were shocked gasps from several other portraits.

Draco visibly tamped down on his anger the best he could. Clearly Phineas Nigellus Black was not endearing himself to him either. "Then why am I here, headmaster?"

"You are here," he said without a trace of unkindness or severity, "because I need to discuss the integral points of your condition with you."

Draco tried to ignore the implications of the word 'condition'.

He gestured to Harry. "Does he need to be here?"

"Would you prefer he wasn't?" asked Dumbledore with a raised eyebrow.

For a moment there was a malicious glint in Draco's eye. "Yes."

Phineas gasped. "The audacity, to think a Malfoy of all people..."

Dumbledore smiled at Draco. "I'm glad you're learning to express yourself."

Harry couldn't help a small smile.

"As I was saying, werewolves are very complex creatures and even now we do not know all that there is to know about them. We do know, however, that they are like humans in many aspects. Over the course of the next few weeks you will find yourself in a constant battle to leash your temper. You cannot give into the desire to maim, it is imperative that you keep a level head, create a ritual if you have to."

"A ritual?"

"Myself, I prefer to count to ten in all the languages I know," he said as though disclosing a secret.

Harry found himself wondering just how many languages the headmaster could speak.

"You will also, if you haven't as of yet, feel the pull towards a mate-"

Draco froze although he had known this was coming. "A mate?"

"Yes. If you would sit down... much better. It is nothing unusual, all werewolves feel it. You will not choose who it is, as you can imagine, but your senses will begin to get affected around them and you will feel the urge to be close to them... scowl all you like Draco but it is not something you can resist for long, you may try but it will not bode well for either you or your mate.

"You will also need to drink wolfsbane once a month an hour prior to your shift, I trust you will do so as I will not put the lives of my students in danger because of a mere slip."

Draco struggled to wrap his mind around everything Dumbledore had just said. Granted, it was common knowledge but he had never stopped to think about it because he had never imagined he would turn into a werewolf. Now he was being informed that he would have to take a mate and that he would have no choice about who it would be, what if he couldn't stand the person? Actually, he already knew he couldn't stand the person.

It was preposterous.

"If you have no questions you may leave, I'm sure you have other commitments."

"Why did the first shift take two months?" he asked silently.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "I can see you have caught on then. It is merely because your body needed time to adjust to the changes. Your first few shifts may be in slightly more or less than a month."

Draco started to get up.

"Professor, I have a feeling Draco is already aware of who his mate is," Snape interjected from behind them.

Harry saw Malfoy bite back a curse. "I, er-" He was looking at Snape like he wanted to murder him, Harry wasn't sure anyone was allowed to look at Snape that way.

"If master Malfoy is uncomfortable with such a topic-"

"It's fucking, Potter!" he exclaimed. "Quit acting like you didn't know, why else would you allow him to stay here?"

Dumbledore was unfazed by this outburst but Harry wasn't about to sit back and let it happen. Sure, Dumbledore hadn't been speaking to him much, they hadn't been on the best terms but Draco ought to show him a little respect.

"Hey, don't talk to him like that."

"Got a problem with it, Potter?"

"Actually I-" he paused as he realised exactly what Draco had just said. "Did you say mate?"

Harry thought he saw something soften at the edges of Draco's eyes but the blonde turned his head away as if he could feel it too. "Yes. Do you have a problem with that as well?"

He turned to him then, pale grey eyes daring him to answer in the affirmative.

He shouldn't have had to think about it yet he found himself saying, "I-"

"Draco, Harry," Dumbledore said raising a placating hand. "Settle down, please."

Harry thought he could see Snape smirk. It made him want to wretch.

Harry settled down into his seat reluctantly, Draco did the same.

"What exactly does it mean, being his mate?" asked Harry.

"Well," said Dumbledore. "You two will have to complete the bond that has been initiated-"

"I didn't start anything," Draco said indignantly.

"Are you completely certain? Did you touch Harry at any point and time during your shift perhaps?"

Draco froze.

"I may have-"

"You were feeling me up?" demanded Harry his eyes wide.

"You watched me get undressed!" returned the other boy. "And no, I did not feel you up, that would be... improper."

Improper?

Really?

"Can we talk about this later?" asked Draco rubbing his temples.

"I think I have a right to know if I'm going to be your mate," Harry said.

Draco got to his feet shakily, ignoring Harry. He clutched a pillar for support, his eyes practically begged for Harry to let it rest, for Dumbledore to dole out his long-deserved punishment for wandering into the Forbidden Forest because Circe... he deserved- would deserve- it and much more. He wasn't sure- no he was very sure, he did not want to think about this sober.


	8. Chapter 8

There's a drumming noise in my head and it starts when you're around  
Swear that you could hear it  
It makes such an almighty sound  
There's a drumming noise inside my head, it throws me to the ground  
Swear that you should hear it  
It makes such an almighty sound  
Louder than sirens  
Louder than bells  
Sweeter than heaven  
Hotter than hell

Drumming Sound  
Florence + the Machine

Word count: 2860

Quidditch practice was a wet, soggy affair and if there was anyone who despised being wet and soggy, it was Draco Malfoy but the rains had come, nothing could be done about it. Similarly, the first game of the season, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin was in a week, as a result, the captain: Arthur Stone was working them to the bone every spare moment they had. He had gone so far as to book the pitch all five days of the week. A tad excessive but Draco was keeping his mouth shut on the matter.

He had retained his previous position as seeker on the team, a real surprise since he had failed to show up for tryouts not to mention the fact that he frequently questioned the captain's authority. He had expected to be benched at the very least but apparently, he would be making an appearance in the next match. Though that could be solely due to his appearance.

Since the shift, he had gained quite a bit more muscle mass, a large appetite and his skin was no longer as gaunt as it had been. He preened over it in private but took it in stride the rest of the time, even Blaise's jaw dropped a few mornings ago, he could remember it quite clearly.

"Have you seen my Quick Quotes quill?" asked Blaise as he tossed clothes in the air moving through the dorm room in frustration.

Draco fastened his tie as he walked out of the bathroom.

"Quick Quotes quill?" he asked. He had never known Blaise to possess one but he could see how he would if he had time to complete his homework and plenty leftover to... well, be himself.

"Yes, the one I use when I have to catch up on homework during History of-" He whirled around and stared at Draco as if he had grown a second head overnight.

Draco merely smirked and stuffed his books into his bag.

"You were saying?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Blaise frowned then shook his head abruptly. "Never mind, I'll just have to borrow your notes for Binns' class later."

"The usual then," he said before leaving the dorm.

It had not been the only incident, the wide eyes and looks of suspicion on their way to many a meal had been an indication that his change had not gone unnoticed. There was no satisfying hush as he swaggered into the Great Hall but the stares spoke volumes more than silence ever could.

"You appear to be settling in well," Pansy said in reference to his shift as he sat down.

Draco shrugged. "It's part of the package," he said in an aloof tone.

She rolled her eyes.

"How was it though?" she asked leaning close. "You didn't spend the night in the dungeons, people are talking."

"They think you have your eye on Anika Moran," supplied Blaise.

Draco wrinkled his nose. "The Ravenclaw?"

"Same thing I thought," said Blaise, "one does not start such things lightly."

The memory made Draco chuckle as he made his way out of the changing rooms with his broom in hand. Theodore Nott fell into step beside him.

"Something funny?" he asked.

Draco shook his head his expression suddenly guarded. "Nothing."

Nott looked like he wanted to press the matter but seemed to think better of it. The wind howled and raked through their hair, the rain was not making it any better.

"Stone's out of his mind," Nott said shaking his head.

"Hmm," Draco said looking at the grass beneath his feet.

Theodore did not say anything more after that. The Slytherin team gathered at one end of the pitch in a semicircle with Stone at the centre. He talked strategy for five minutes directing chasers and beaters to different ends of the pitch. He might have said something to Draco but it was only on a rare occasion that he paid the captain any mind so he couldn't be certain. As the seeker he had the great benefit of non conformity, he did not have to stick within a certain area of the pitch or look out for anything but bludgers and the snitch.

"Everyone clear on the plan?"

There was a chorus of assent.

Stone eyed Draco who was purposefully gazing at the sky.

He mounted his broom along with everyone else and watched as Stone released the balls, all except the snitch of course- they had realised a long time ago that the thing was far more trouble than it was worth. So he hovered in the air, did a few laps round the pitch then watched the game absent-mindedly. A bludger came rushing at him, he ducked. Someone shouted an apology but it was too dark to see who.

The rain pounded heavily against Draco's back, his flying leathers stuck uncomfortably to his skin. After a few more laps around the pitch, he slowed down and landed on the pitch. As fate would have it, Stone spotted him, he motioned for Draco to get back in the air but the blonde shook his head and took a seat on the bench no longer aware of the rain as a livid looking Stone approached.

"Back on your broom, Malfoy," he shouted above the sound of the rain.

"No thank you, I'd rather not waste my energy if I'm going to be doing nothing."

Stone's jaw hardened. "Back. On. Your. Broom."

Draco stood at the command. Somewhere along the line Stone had forgotten who he was, some line of formality had been crossed, he would set it right. "No."

The larger boy glared.

Practice had come to a halt by now, several players were landing on the pitch, among them Theodore, to catch a glimpse of what it was this time. Draco knew he was on his last straw with the captain, this would likely earn him a seat on the bench but something in him would not let him let this go, Stone was questioning him, dammit!

"I will not ask you again," he said through gritted teeth.

"Draco," began Theodore.

"Malfoy," he spat.

Theodore seemed taken aback by the outburst, his lips pressed into a firm line, he stepped back.

"Am I expected to simply hover in the air, why should I waste energy on something so pointless?" he demanded.

It was an unnecessary argument but Stone pushed it nonetheless, he was unwilling to have his authority questioned and Malfoy pushed it because... because Stone didn't know what he was saying anyway and he was right. Stone glared at him for a long while.

"Benched," he proclaimed.

There was a gasp. Even Draco felt a jolt of surprise course through him.

Theodore stepped forward. "You can't be serious-"

He grinned maliciously a though he'd found Draco's weak spot. "For the rest of the season."

Everyone seemed to want to speak all at once but Stone silenced them all with a look.

"In the air, the rest of the you."

"You can say goodbye to the house cup," Draco called as he strolled away, it was a coveted object by all previous Slytherin captains, this one was no different.

"One more word and you can say goodbye to your position as seeker, Malfoy."

He chuckled darkly, turned around to face Stone, rivulets of icy water worming their way down his face.

"Who's going to kick me off the team, you?"

"Careful there, Malfoy, you may not be able to buy your way onto the team again, Daddy's in a bit of trouble, isn't he?" he said.

He had his wand out long before Stone could think to get his. "Impedimentia."

Stone was thrown back four feet but Draco did not leave it at that, he stalked toward him ignoring the shouts of the other players. He had suffered this poor excuse of a captain long enough, that he had the nerve to dare speak about his father... oh, it was a big mistake on his part.

"Levicorpus," he said as the boy scrambled for his wand.

There was a flash of blinding light, the length of wood slipped out of his grasp and he was dangled up side down in the air. His eyes were wide with fear, his body shivering from a mixture of fear and cold, he was panting. Draco heard someone call his name but ignored the sound.

"Don't you ever, talk about my father again if you value your life, am I clear?" he said in barely restrained fury.

Through the curtain of rain separating them, Draco saw Stone nodded fearfully.

{HPDM}

Draco was feeling far more satisfied than he should have, Stone had been a thorn in his side since fifth year, he should have dealt with him a long time ago. The wave of euphoria didn't last long however, as he realised just how cold and uncomfortable he was. A visit to the kitchens for a cup of tea followed by a stop by the library sounded good. He would read the books Dumbledore had mentioned and perhaps Remus Lupin's notes again, he had been in a right state the last time.

Dark hair, green eyes.

Draco's gaze snapped to attention. Potter was making his way towards him looking rather downcast, if he could say so.

"Potter," he said when they were about four feet away from each other.

The dark-haired boy looked up in surprise, Draco thought the same expression must be mirrored on his face because he could not for the love of Merlin think what had made him do that.

"Malfoy," he said carefully. He seemed to be looking for something in his eyes.

He rolled his eyes and said without thinking, "I haven't-" he stopped himself before he could continue because who was Potter that he had to answer to him for his actions?

"Why?" he asked

"Why what?" he snapped. "Do try to be more articulate if you hope to converse with me."

Potter seemed to hesitate for a moment, he lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head and Draco caught a whiff of something like sandalwood, broom-cleaning fluid and... he couldn't identify the other scent. It was an intoxicating mixture. He leaned back with a start, had he scented Potter again? It seemed that the part of him that wanted his mate would do almost anything in Potter's presence

Potter bit his lip, Draco did not stare. "We need to... er, talk- about the mate thing and all."

It could be his imagination but Malfoy thought the distance between him and Potter had lessened. Had he moved forward or had Potter? Or was he imagining it?

"How about tomorrow? Ten o'clock the prefect's bathroom. Sine bene." he said intending to sound aloof but his voice was too hoarse.

Had he lost us mind? Get a grip, he chided.

Why the bloody hell had he suggested ten o'clock? Potter would think he wanted to kill him or something. Merlin, couldn't he think about what he said before he said it?

"I-uh...Ten o'clock?" he asked his expression changing to one of suspicion.

"Yes," Draco said though with none of the malice he'd had before. "Some of us are actually busy during the day you know."

"How'd you know I'm not busy at night?" he asked.

Draco felt his lips pulling into a smirk.

"Touché," he said crossing his arms. "I can't believe Harry Potter is getting more action than me."

"You're too picky to get any action."

"Too picky?" asked Draco trying to ignore the small flare of jealousy that flamed in his heart. "As opposed to having no standards?"

"I mean you don't compromise."

"I can compromise," said Draco but he knew it wasn't true.

He could but it would take a lot of effort.

"Sure," Harry said as he continued down the hallway and Malfoy had to bite down the urge to follow, Merlin knows he would do something stupid.

{HPDM}

Harry walked down the corridor wondering what had just happened. He had been on his way back to the Gryffindor Tower from the library after telling Hermione that he couldn't read anymore when he had- in what was becoming a regular occurrence) run into Malfoy. Harry didn't know if he was imagining it but the blonde seemed less vile.

Surely it wasn't because they were... they were mates, was it? Malfoy had seemed positively reviled by the idea back in Dumbledore's office.

Harry wasn't exactly all for it either.

He had told Ron and Hermione that he had gone to bed early on the night of the Halloween feast and while Ron had believed this easily, Hermione had taken some convincing.

"But I didn't see you at breakfast the next morning," she had said.

"I had to... er, send an owl."

She frowned.

"To who?" she had asked.

Now that Sirius was gone, who exactly would he be sending an owl to? He wished he'd thought his response through.

"Lupin," he lied.

At once Hermione's dubious expression had vanished and her eyes softened. "Oh Harry," she said and he had gotten the distinct impression that she was happy to see him owling someone after Sirius' passing. She hadn't questioned him any further on the matter.

Ron meanwhile, had been rapidly glancing over at Hermione's Charms essay while she and Harry had been talking and wouldn't have been caught if Madam Pince hadn't shown up to shush them and Hermione spotted him from the corner of her eye. As soon as Madam Pince left, Hermione began to scold him in a whisper. Harry had gotten back to work then.

Now, Sunday evening, he wondered what Malfoy would want to say to him that couldn't be said at the moment. It must be something about them being mates that Malfoy was afraid anyone would overhear. Harry wondered when he would pluck up the courage to tell Ron and Hermione. He could just see their reactions.

"Mate?" Ron would sputter.

"What do you mean mate, Harry?"Hermione would ask.

He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and she swung aside to let him pass. He made his way for the dormitory uninterrupted and dumped his books on his bed.

"Hi Harry," someone said.

Harry spun round startled. He hadn't noticed anyone else in the dorm.

"Oh, hello Neville," he said.

Neville waved over a book he was reading. Harry peered at it but couldn't make out the title.

"So," he said in an effort to fill in the silence. "How've you been getting one?"

"Good," Neville said shutting his book and setting it down on his bed. He seemed to have been waiting for someone to ask from his enthusiasm. "I asked Luna out you know."

Harry smiled, genuinely happy for him. It wasn't everyone that saw through Neville's exterior and he and Luna seemed oddly suited for each other.

"That's great. Did she say yes?"

Neville beamed and nodded furiously.

"Yeah she did. I asked her to come with me to Hogsmeade, it's still a bit early I know but she said yes and she said she'd show me how to spot nargles and wackspurts."

Harry laughed.

"Good for you Neville," he said.

He thought of finding a date himself but Neville was right, he had weeks before the next Hogsmeade weekend and with everything going on, he didn't think he had time for a girlfriend. Especially not after what had happened with Cho last year.

Neville seemed to notice Harry's shift in attention and went back to his book with a slight smile in his face. Ron arrived half an hour later with a weary look on his face. He set his book bag down by his bed and sighed.

"I can't believe she wouldn't let it go," he said running his hand over his features. "I only copied and inch of her work!"

"You know how Hermione is," said Harry who was lounging on his bed in flannel pajamas.

Ron shook his head.

"I'm beat," he said. "See you tomorrow?"

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, see you..."

He couldn't stop thinking about his meeting with Malfoy.

A/N: A not so long chapter. It was supposed to be shorter than the others but things just sort of took over and the characters developed minds of their own. I don't think I'm running this show anymore :)

Good news though, they're meeting tomorrow, at night, in a dark room, all alone... I'll let you fill in the rest with you little debauched minds. Lots of smut, angst, laughter and tears to come! ;)

Thank you to everyone who has stuck by this story until now, I really appreciate all you comments reviews, votes etc.

the silent-assassin x


	9. Chapter 9

Mama always told me,  
papa always warned me:  
don't hang around boys like you.

Boys Like You  
360

Word Count: 3958

Harry traced his tongue along the corner of his lips. His tongue, like the rest of him, was warm and oddly soft. Each spot it left was cold and desolate. Draco could not help a shiver, his arms rose of their own accord to encircle Harry's torso, gripping tightly, nails digging into flesh whilst pulling him closer.

He could feel Harry's adam's apple against his cheek when he chuckled.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he whispered tongue slipping into Draco's ear.

A moan was all the answer he got and it evoked another throaty laugh.

Harry's hands reached beneath the hem of his t-shirt gripping the warm sensitive flesh of Draco's abdomen. He gasped and Harry took the opportunity to kiss him, his tongue slipping into his mouth.

"Ungh..." Draco was saying his hands digging deeper and stepper into Harry's skin. "Potter..."

"Harry," he whispered gently his hands slipping past the band of his trousers.

Draco sat bolt upright.

He looked down at the damp sheets and realised with horror that he was hard. He felt like he was going to throw up. He felt dirty, soiled. Not by the fact that he'd just had a wet dream about another boy but that that boy was Potter of all the bloody people in the world. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? Even if it was, it wasn't like he could very well do anything about it.

Potter was his mate certainly but the two of them had yet to come to an understanding and Draco doubted the Gryffindor would be willing to offer casual sex just to satisfy his needs. Definitely not. The thought that Potter had ventured into the pleasures of the flesh made Draco wonder just what Potter could do, if he would be dominant like he had been in the dream. Or was he more of the compliant type? He licked his lips unknowingly.

He cast a quick scorgify and headed to the bathroom where he attended to his needs then proceeded to scrub himself clean of all Potter's lingering effects then throw on a fresh pair of robes. He lingered by his trunk trying to decide whether or not to take a swig of the rum he'd hidden but thought twice about it, Snape would smell it on him instantly. As silent as he could, he made his way down the stairs to the common room where there were some people already awake padding around in pyjamas or lounging on couches with some reading; it was early, even for a weekday but there was no way Draco was going back to sleep if he was going to have another... incident.

He barely hesitated to sprint down the corridors at full speed, down, down, down to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom behind which were his godfather's quarters. By the time he got there his breath was coming out in short huffs. He took a minute to catch his breath, smooth his uniform and pat down his hair before he threw open the door and strode to the back of the class. He only had to knock twice.

To his credit, Snape looked as he always did, dressed to the toe in black, his greasy hair smoothed back, his lips pulled downwards in a frown.

"I did take the initiative to assist raising you properly but I cannot ever recall agreeing to house calls at ungodly hours of the morning," he said surveying Draco severely.

The boy sighed.

"It's important, Severus."

The defense master stepped aside to let Draco pass. "That's professor Snape to you," he said as he shut the door.

Draco dropped into one of the dark leather sofas, his mask cool nonchalance slipping on easily. He'd done this so many times it had become a part of him.

"You can drop the act, uncle, we're alone here."

Snape's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "I could say the same for you."

Malfoy sighed.

"Fine," he said restraining his worry by a tight leash.

"Good." He pulled a stool toward him, took a seat. "Now that that's out of the way, what by Merlin's great name convinced you to come here at this hour?"

"I need a favour."

Snape made a sound halfway between a cough and a laugh. "I thought Malfoys didn't ask for favours."

Draco waved the comment away. "My father likes to think himself invincible."

Snape's look said: 'And you don't?' but Draco chose to ignore that.

He plucked at his sleeve. "I need a sleeping draught."

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits. "Why?"

Draco shifted nervously. "I've been having trouble sleeping," he muttered staring at anything but his godfather.

"Then fly around the grounds or do whatever it is you people do to tire yourselves these days," he said.

"It's not a matter of weariness per se."

Snape pitched forward.

"Then what is it?"

"As you know, I've recently become a... werewolf," began Draco half choking out the word. "And certain effects are to be expected-"

"Get to the point, Draco."

"I've been having dreams."

Snape watched him like he was a particularly tricky potion to brew, the room suddenly felt too small; Snape's keen gaze on him felt like a hundred pairs of eyes were watching him. Draco suddenly remembered that he'd forgot to put on deodorant. He didn't know why that thought came to mind at that moment, it just did.

"What kind of dreams?"

Draco's features melded into a scowl. "The bad kind."

Snape pinched his eyebrows. "I'm going to need you to be a little more articulate than that, Draco."

Draco chewed on his lower lip, his throat felt dry, like sandpaper, his fingers were twitching, he recognised all the signs and wanted desperately to steal away somewhere and have a drink.

"The erotic kind."

His godfather's expression did not change in fact, one would think he had not heard Draco's words but he was too weary to repeat himself. He should have sated the urge when he had the chance.

"Hmm," Snape said his gaze on a bookshelf to his left. "I did read about this, to be honest I expected this to happen..."

'And you still made me say it?' What a Slytherin, he found himself thinking.

Just like me.

"So? Does this mean you'll brew me the potion?" Draco asked hoping for a yes though even he knew his chances were slim.

"As I am no longer this school's potions master, I suggest you try Madam Pomfrey."

Draco could not believe it.

"The woman hates me, Severus. You expect me to ask her to brew me such a potion?" He would have done it himself but some of the ingredients required could only be found in Snape's- Slughorn's now- cupboard. The techniques used required an expert brewer as well and while he knew he was better than most of the students at Hogwarts, he wasn't sure he was ready for such a potion, yet.

"It's the name she hates, Draco," Snape said rising from behind the mahogany desk.

He ambled to a cupboard which he held his wand to and murmured an incantation. The lock clicked, Snape pulled aside the wood to reveal a well-stocked liquor cabinet. Draco couldn't help a frown.

That was odd.

"I didn't know you kept it locked."

Snape finished pouring himself a brandy before he returned to his desk. The mask had slipped somewhat now, Draco could see how weary his godfather really was though not much more than that as the lighting was low.

"Security measures," he said after a sip. "I'm sure you understand, no?"

Draco froze, his blood run cold at Snape's comment yet the man didn't seem to notice any change in his godson and if he did he showed no sign of it as he sipped his brandy in silence. What could possibly have motivated him to say something of that sort? Weeks ago, he had questioned Draco about it, albeit indirectly, and he had denied it. He was certain his godfather knew nothing about it or if he did it was merely a suspicion. Had that statement been aimed directly at him? After all, Draco could not say he knew what he meant; the cellar and various liquor cabinets in Malfoy Manor were always left unlocked.

"I'm not sure I understand," he forced himself to say because the silence had began to drag on far too long.

Snape shrugged, an oddly relaxed action. "I had a feeling."

He chased down the rest of the brandy with a sigh of satisfaction. "Is that all you had to speak to me about, or was there something other than the erotic dreams?"

Draco blushed, the comment managed to ease some of the tension in his muscles but unfortunately it brought back the image of Potter and him shirts hanging open, breath short, cheeks flushed...

Snap out of it.

He fingered the signet ring he wore on his index finger thoughtfully. "Well there was the matter of the silencing charm..."

Snape cocked his head to the side with a curious look. "It's not my area but I'm sure you wouldn't have brought it up unless it was implicitly necessary."

Draco nodded. "Of course."

He had learned that he could in fact tell his godfather anything, somethings were just harder to voice than others.

{HPDM}

"Oh God," Hermoine exclaimed from behind her copy of the Daily Prophet.

"What?" questioned Ron urgently. "Has something happened."

Harry too who had been in the process of finishing up his Herbology homework looked up. His fingers were stained with splotches of ink and his neck hurt from being bent at such an angle for long, he hadn't gotten much sleep last night either because he'd been finishing a Potions essay (after being unable to sleep) then Ron, in his excitement of having made the team, had insisted they talk strategy and Seamus wanted to know why he didn't have a problem with Ginny snogging Theodore Nott- a Slytherin. He rubbed his eyes, all in all, it had been a very long night.

Hermoine took a sip of orange juice her eyes scanning the page furiously.

"It says here that Bathilda Bagshot died last night," she said looking at Ron and Harry.

They both cleared their throats and Ron rolled his eyes inconspicuously. He could care less about writers but Harry knew Hermione loved reading, the Standard Book of Spells had gotten them through some tight spots so he said, "Really? What of?"

She shrugged her eyes traveling back to the paper. "It's still undetermined."

Harry dipped his quill into the bottle of ink. "She had children, right? Maybe one of them could take over her writing-"

Hermione shook her head. "It won't be the same."

Ron shook his head. "Relax, Hermione, she already had the Grade 7 books published-"

"You are completely insufferable sometimes," she hissed getting up from the table.

"What? I didn't even-" he said to a retreating form then growled. "Girls."

"She'll forget about it," Harry said with about two inches to go.

"Yeah, I know. What are you working on anyway?" asked Ron as he picked at strips of bacon.

"Herbology," he said after a sip of ginger tea.

He sensed Ron shiver. "Sorry, mate."

Harry shrugged as he scrawled out some more words. "It's nearly done anyway."

Ron didn't say anything at that and chose to continue eating his breakfast. Harry wasn't sure why he was working so diligently on the essay, the lesson was at the end of the day but he didn't want to push the work foreword, the amount of work pending had already grown to nauseating pile. It made him cringe each time he completed some only for more to be added. He brought the essay to a rather mundane end which he didn't beat himself up too much over.

He rolled up the parchment, set it aside and filled his plate with French toast, warm croissants, fluffy pancakes and two sausages.

He was going to need it for Astronomy.

"Don't look now but Malfoy's looking at you," Ron said staring at something behind Harry.

He instinctively turned ignoring Ron's warning and saw that Malfoy's gaze was indeed trained on him. He could hear Ron saying something but he could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Malfoy, who despised and could not stand him, who took it upon himself to make Harry's life a living nightmare had been looking at him blankly. He looked like he had been thinking about something benevolent- if that were possible- while staring unknowingly at him. Harry's breath caught when Malfoy blinked and seemed to realise who he was staring at.

There was no sneer, no glare. He thought he saw the corner Malfoy of Malfoy's lip inch upward- something that sent an indescribable feeling through his abdomen- but dismissed it as due to his lack of sleep. He stood up and left the Great Hall with his piece of parchment in hand much to Ron's chagrin.

He did not make it far.

"Potter," a familiar voice called.

He stopped in his tracks but did not turn.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

The silence was peppered with the sounds of shoes clicking in the polished floor, footsteps approaching him until Malfoy stood before him, closer than was strictly necessary, Harry noticed but was too shocked to comment on it or give it much thought. The pale haired boy gave him a shamelessly thorough once over before looking at him.

"What?" snapped Harry unable to deal with the other boy's scrutiny.

It seemed to make him snap out whatever it was he had been doing, Harry watched as the coldness creeped back to his eyes. He slipped his hands into his pockets, his posture straightening ever so slightly. "Ten o'clock, I hope you haven't forgotten."

Then he was gone.

{HPDM}

Harry was jerked awake by the sound of voices. He had fallen asleep on the sofa with Quidditch through the Ages in his lap, he marked the page he had been reading before he fell asleep then put the book aside. The voices in question were coming from the tight side of the common room. He could see Parvati seated on the sofa with Lavender at her feet. The dark haired girl was gesturing to something on a piece of parchment.

Harry started and glanced at his watch. It was quarter to ten. He had spent the majority of his night debating about whether or not to go to the prefect's bathroom at ten. Malfoy had not mentioned why he wanted to see him, Harry had a sneaking suspicion that whatever it was was illegal and would be a waste of his time. Yet, he couldn't help the curiosity bubbling at the back of his mind. In all his five years at Hogwarts he had never met Malfoy alone. He had always been surrounded by his posse, never had he cornered Harry like he had that morning or spoken to him in the absence of his two cronies Crabbe and Goyle.

He had eventually decided that he would go if only to satisfy his curiosity as to why Malfoy wanted to see him but promised himself that if the Slytherin tried anything foolish then he would not resist the urge to hex him ten times over. He could not, however, leave the common room when Parvati and Lavender were seated there so he forced himself to wait until they climbed up the stairs to their dorm, by then it was already ten o'clock. He placed his book on the table which had some of Ron's work along with his quills and a bottle of ink then grabbed his invisibility cloak and threw it over his head.

Harry tip-toed across the empty common room pleased that the Fat Lady chose not to say anything and wake the other portraits as he left. He had never been to the prefect's bathroom before but he had heard Ron talk about it before, he'd mentioned that it was on the fifth floor. Harry kept an eye out for filch and Mrs. Norris as he made his way up the stairs, once he thought he heard something which caused him to lose his footing and nearly trip.

"Who's there?" demanded a tall lanky man from one of the portraits. He was dressed in old century style clothing and had a long unkempt beard.

"There's no one here, William. I swear you're getting more paranoid every day," said a young lady from Harry's other side. Unlike him, she was dressed in a more recent style of wizard's robes though underneath them she wore a nightgown.

Their conversation did not end there but Harry forced himself to ignore the bit about the light his wand was emitting and walked on. When he arrived at the door to the prefect's bathroom, he realised that he didn't know the password. He was about to curse when it occurred to him that he did know the password, Malfoy had said it to him. What had it been...

"Sine bene," he whispered as loud as he dared.

"Late night dip, eh?" the man in the portrait said with a sly grin. "Your partner's already there, have fun."

Harry choked.

Partners?

"We're not-"

"Oh go ahead you. The water's getting cold not to mention I'd like to sleep," he said.

Harry was forced to step through the portrait hole his invisibility cloak bundled in his arm. The first thing that struck him was that it was enormous. Majority of the room was occupied by a large tub that closely resembled a swimming pool with various taps at its anterior end. There were various racks for towels and clothing as well as bench on which Malfoy currently sat. He stood and even from the low light of the room Harry could see that he was still in his uniform which was as neat as it had been in the morning. Merlin, he even had his tie on.

"You're late."

"You should be grateful that I chose to come."

Malfoy laughed a sharp mirthless laugh. "Saviour Boy here thinks those lesser than him should be grateful for his mere presence."

Harry hated that, he absolutely despised it when Malfoy called him names. Sure, it had been done several times before but when Malfoy did it he managed to make it sound revolting, like it was something Harry should be embarrassed about.

Unknowingly, he took a step closer.

"I said not to call me names," he said his voice dangerously low.

Malfoy eyes glinted as he grinned. "As I recall, you specifically said not to call you Golden Boy or Wonder Boy. You didn't say anything about-"

"If you called me here to call me names then I'm leaving," Harry said annoyed that he had wasted his time coming all the way to the prefect's bathroom.

"I wouldn't need to meet you at night in a prefect's bathroom to call you names, Potter."

A glare. "What then?"

A step closer, clenched fists. His deep grey eyes spoke of restrained emotion carefully hidden behind a mask, shoved down the deep dark hole that was his soul. "You lost something. Something valuable."

Harry was so close that he could smell him, he smelled like pine cones and rain with the slightest hint of sweat. He cleared his throat attempting to banish those thoughts though Malfoy did not appear to have noticed his internal struggle.

"I haven't lost anything," Harry said even though he wasn't really sure.

He didn't recall having lost anything.

Malfoy did not respond to him, instead he pulled something out of his pocket and held it before Harry who peered at it for a moment before he recognised it.

"My father's wedding ring," he mumbled taking the chain in his hands.

No one knew that he wore it beneath his clothes, he hadn't realised it had come off.

"How did you-?"

"The day at the Black Lake," Malfoy said.

Harry understood.

He shoved the chain in the pocket of his pants then squared his jaws. "Thanks," he made himself say.

Malfoy gave him a nod.

He tapped his fingers together, forced himself to take a step back, they were too close, the room had began to feel stuffy, as though someone had taken a bath and forgotten to open the windows.

"Anything else?" asked Harry if only to fill the silence.

Malfoy nodded. "We need to work out some ground rules."

"Why?" asked Harry a little surprised.

Malfoy was acting... not nice but tolerable. It was putting him off frankly because he wasn't used to a Malfoy that asked him to meet him at late hours. Was there something that he was missing, be abuse there had to be an ulterior motive, a bigger picture.

"I will not answer that."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Well then how do you expect me to know what the bloody hell you're talking about?"

Malfoy sighed. "You're really are daft sometimes Potter," he said.

Harry shot him glare.

"Have you already forgotten?" he demanded with a trace of something more than anger.

Harry answered, "Yes" just to piss Malfoy off and he could see in the low light of the room that it had its intended effect.

"You're- we're... mates," he said the last word in a hushed voice, like he was afraid of being overheard.

Harry started to deny it. "Of course we're-" but he cut himself short when he realized what Malfoy was saying. He remember what he'd heard Dumbledore say in his office merely a day ago. Draco was a werewolf and he, Harry, was his mate.

He cursed.

"What do we need ground rules for?" he asked. "I thought we were doing nothing about it."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"Something has to happen, Potter. This is powerful magic, a binding contract, it won't allow us to sit back and do nothing."

Oh.

"And didn't you hear what Dumbledore said about the bond?"

"I did," he replied quickly.

What had Dumbledore said? Harry tried to remember. It had been something about Draco borrowing books from the library, a bond being initiated... yes, that was it. A bond had been initiated which would have to be completed. Something about not being able to ignore the bond.

"Then you know we have to do something about it."

"Okay, what?" he asked.

"Like I said: ground rules."

Harry could live with that.

"First: no touching unless expressly allowed."

"Touching?" Harry echoed. "Why would we need to-?"

Malfoy sighed again. "Obviously you know nothing about werewolf bonds."

Harry threw his hands in the air. "Of course I don't. I've never had to be someone's mate before!"

"Well, you'll need the books more than I do then."

Harry ignored this.

"Second: we can't speak about this in public. I'm supposing you've already told Weasel and the Mudblood."

"Don't call them that," Harry hissed his hand reaching for his wand. He was suddenly filled with a deep seated feeling of dislike for Malfoy.

"I'll call them what I like."

Harry pointed his wand at him.

"Don't you dare, Potter," said Malfoy vehemently.

"I'll do what I like," Harry said.

Malfoy glared at him.

Harry glared back.

"Get that out of my face," he spat.

"It's not in your face, it's in my hand."

"Get what's in your hand out of my face."

Harry lowered his wand.

"Forget this," he said turning around. "I'm leaving."

"I haven't finished, Potter," said Malfoy.

"I don't care," Harry said and with that he left the room.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: And the drarry action begins! Are you excited, because I am over the moon about this, I've been waiting over 38k words for this. For those of you who have stuck along until now, thanks so much, I love you to bits.

Thanks for all the reviews and comments as well, I appreciate those.

I do need a favour though, I need to know if you guys will want lemons in future chapters. I was planning to drop a few scenes of that kind in some chapters then I changed my mind. And changed it again. Need to know what you guys want because I can't make up my fucking mind!

Thanks :)

P.S Harry and Ron take Divination (Professor Trelawney takes everyone into her class).

{HPDM}

Cause I wanna be someone worthy of your conversation.

Leeward Side  
Josh Pyke

Word count: 4431

Harry and Ron sat in the musty classroom at the top of the tower that was Divination. It was a particularly warm afternoon that had students loosening their ties and unbuttoning their shirts in frustration. Perhaps it was merely a warm afternoon or maybe it was the roaring fire in the hearth. Either way it was particularly hot in the classroom.

"I must say," Professor Trewlaney said as she unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. "I was not expecting such a big turnout but you know what they say: the sky's the limit."

"I'm pretty sure that saying has nothing to do with Divination and everything with muggles," muttered Harry.

Ron nodded. "It's only to be expected of course."

Parvati Patil motioned for them to be quiet and the two boys settled down for the longest lesson of their lives.

Harry loosened his tie and popped open the first two buttons of his shirt. His cloak lay discarded on the back of his chair. It was simply stuffy in the room but when Hannah Abbot had asked Trelawney if they could open the windows she firmly cautioned them against it claiming it would cause the essence of their foresight to flutter away to the verdant grass of the Quidditch pitch. Ron had sniggered, about to say something about this but the Divination professor had fixed him with a firm glare and he had kept silent.

Unfortunately, now that she had mentioned Quidditch, Harry found himself unable to focus on the lesson. Even as Trelawney began handing out packs of tarot cards per pair all Harry could think was that the Slytherin team had been getting much more practice this term than the Gryffindor team which incidentally, he was in charge of. They had booked the pitch for nearly every day of the week last week and Harry had even glimpsed them flying once.

They would not be as easy to beat this season.

He'd left most of the managing in Ginny's hands which he'd thought at the time was a good idea (not that he didn't think so at the moment) and they'd only managed to practice a total of five times since term began which was two months ago. Usually he busied himself with the coaching aspect and the new recruits had been getting better, he just wasn't sure if it would be good enough to beat Slytherin.

The first match was in a few days.

On the bright side, he'd heard that Malfoy had been benched. Not that he took pleasure in others' displeasure (even though Malfoy deserved it) but as much as he was loath to admit it, Malfoy as seeker was a force to reckon with and with everything on his plate, he wasn't sure he was in the right shape to take him on. He could imagine how much gloating the Slytherins would subject him (and the rest of Hogwarts) to if he lost.

That single thought was what made Harry vow to train even harder today evening because through some miracle he was choosing not to question, Ginny has managed to get them the pitch for practice.

"Harry," Ron was saying.

"Yeah?"

"You alright there?" asked Ron taking the elastic off the pack of cards. "I thought you were having another-"

"Vision? No," he said. "What are we supposed to do?"

Ron eyed him warily. "Well, Trelawney wants us to predict each other's future using these tarot cards."

"What?" he said. "Haven't we been predicting futures since first year?"

Ron shot him a pointed glance. "Yeah, same thing I was saying before I realised I was talking to myself."

Harry winced. "Sorry, I just spaced out."

Ron waved it away in a strangely chivalrous manner. "What were you thinking about?"

"Quidditch," Harry confessed.

Ron's expression was one of understanding. "Slytherin have been getting loads of practice under that Stone bloke."

"Same thing I was thinking," Harry said opening the page in use of tarot cards because Trelawney had looked up from her reading to check that everyone was focusing on their assigned work.

"Brown, Patil!" she called. "Since you seem so invested in reading each others futures you can be the first to present them to the class five minutes to time." Harry thought he heard Ron sigh in relief. "Followed by Potter and Weasley."

"Ugh. This woman needs to take it down a notch," he grumbled.

"You did predict her imminent death in fourth year," Harry pointed out.

"She was getting on my nerves," Ron declared. "I wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine."

Harry couldn't say he would blame Ron for that. The Divination professor had a habit of predicting his death any chance she got. Apparently she disliked it when the action was reciprocated.

"Anyway," Ron said making a show of laying the cards on the table and unrolling a piece of parchment. "I heard Malfoy's been benched."

Harry nodded as Ron passed him the cards. Years of not paying attention during classes had made them experts at pretending to do work. "Yeah, got Stone pissed or something."

"Arrogant prick deserves it if you ask me," Ron said lowering his voice when he spotted Trelawney rising from her seat.

"I know," Harry said lowering his head so close to the book his nose nearly touched the pages. "But I don't want to have to rely on that to get a win, you know what I mean?"

"To be honest, no." Harry rolled his eyes. Of course Ron wouldn't see it that way. "A win's a win."

"But how will I know if I've gotten any better if I don't put myself against one of the best flyers in the school?"

Ron's nose wrinkled. "Best? Have you lost it, Harry? Is this some sort of hallucination?"

"Credit where credit is due," Harry said.

"Sure, credit for successfully buying his way onto the team. It's pretentious and flamboyant but I can respect it," Ron said with a cough to mask his words as Trelawney stopped by their desk to take a look at what they were doing.

"But to actually suggest he's any good?" Ron whispered when she went over to check on Seamus and Dean. "Harry, it's complete rubbish!" Harry knew Ron would never agree with him on the subject. Malfoy may be a vile human being but he was an expert flyer.

There was no denying that.

"Whatever, let's get to work on this, we have approximately fifteen minutes," Harry said. "You shuffled them wrong."

Ron shrugged. "Sorry mate."

He didn't sound very sorry.

Harry sighed as shuffled the cards afresh then dealt Ron three cards then the same for himself.

"Okay, it says here we're using the Tarot de Marseille," Harry said referring to his textbook. "I'll go first."

He picked the card to his left and turned it over. "For the past you've got the fool," he said as Ron began to scribble something down on his parchment. He looked up the entry. "Which translates to madness or bewilderment." He looked up.

"Well that explains what happened in fourth year." At Harry's look of bewilderment, he added, "When I thought you'd stuck your name in the Goblet of Fire."

Harry nodded.

He turned the middle card.

"The sun," he said, "which stands for prison." He left out the part that said poverty because he didn't think Ron needed to be reminded of that. "I reckon someone's got it in their clutches."

Ron frowned. "That's really creepy, Harry."

Harry laughed and turned the last card.

"The devil-" Ron have a sigh of resignation- "which stands for illness."

"That could be any bloody thing," Ron said. "Can't these cards be any more specific?"

"Ron," Harry admonished, "don't disrespect the cards."

Ron snorted. "More like they disrespected me. Sick, please!"

He turned Harry's first card. "The moon: betrayal or falsehood," he said which Harry thought he could relate to various aspects of his life. "I doubt we could count the number of times that happened."

"Next one," he said eager to be done with it.

"Alright, alright," Ron said. "Don't rush it, this is a very delicate process by the way."

He picked the card that say on the centre.

"Look what we've got here: The Hanged Man," Ron said. "Even the cards are with Trelawney." At Harry's insistence that he go ahead and read it Ron turned his attention to his text book. "Prudence or popularity- what? What's a hanged man got to do with prudence or popularity? I swear, there's something wrong with these cards Harry and it isn't the macabre images."

Harry couldn't resist a grin

"Ok. Last one," Ron said. "The Popess who represents enlightenment and passion." Ron grinned as Harry wrote that down. "Good times are ahead wouldn't you say?"

Harry punched his arm.

"I can get some without a pack of cards telling me it's going to happen," Harry said because he could, he just didn't try very hard.

As promised Lavender and Parvati had to read their findings five minutes to the end of the class but no one really paid them any mind and Harry was only glad that the class was over before he and Ron had to read theirs because Trelawney couldn't stop correcting them for making the wrong readings.

The two boys raced up the steps to the Gryffindor common room to dump their books, change into their flying leathers and collect their brooms before they headed down to the Quidditch pitch. To their surprise the rest of the members of the team had already arrived and were listening to Ginny instruct them on what strategy they would use in the upcoming match.

"Oh, Harry," she said when she spotted him at the back. "I was just explaining to the team why we should change our formation this season," she said like she needed to explain herself.

"Carry on," Harry said.

And she did for at least five minutes before they got in the air and began to fly and Harry had never felt more relaxed.

{HPDM}

"Get up, Draco," someone was saying.

He felt a heavy weight settle on his legs and a hand tap at his bare back.

"Draco. Fuck, get the hell up, Draco."

"What is it this time, Blaise?" he mumbled shifting his body away from the boy.

All he wanted was to get a little more sleep. He hadn't slept well in ages and he felt like he would pass out of he didn't get enough sleep again.

"It's the day of the match or did you forget again?"

"Mmmh, Blaise," he whined. "Stop that..."

Blaise didn't stop trying to tickle his underarms.

"Draco, will you get up?" demanded the Italian boy. "I want to eat breakfast already. The match starts in two hours."

Draco snuggled deeper into the mattress. "Malfoys don't... forget..."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Blaise said shifting his position so that he was on his knees, each of them on either side of Malfoy's body. He gripped the blonde's arms then turned his body so that he was lying on his back. He prodded his cheek.

"Malfoy," he said. "Quit whining and get up, dammit."

"Blaise, I was wondering if I could borrow-" Theo said then stopped at the sight of the dark-skinned joy above Malfoy. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked with a slight smile.

"Go away, Theo," Blaise said throwing a pillow at him.

The blonde ducked and walked off. "Have fun, Zabini."

"Fuck," he muttered.

Draco meanwhile was wriggling underneath him attempting to get comfortable and mumbling incoherently about his duvet gone missing.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," he said prodding his cheek with each syllable, "you will get up this- shit!"

In a flash, Draco's head turned and there was a flash of white before Blaise withdrew his hand with half a yell. "Did you just bite me?" he demanded nursing his throbbing index finger. "What the hell-?"

"Blaise, you have the dirtiest mouth," Draco said his eyes fluttering open lazily.

He wriggled once more and managed to look innocent while doing it.

Blaise swore again. "First the silencio then this, I swear to you Draco-" he got out his wand and Draco paled.

"Blaise," the blonde began.

"Oh no," Blaise said. "Not this time. Auguamenti!"

"Merlin's fucking sagging tits!" were the words that resounded through the Slytherin dungeons. "I'm going to fucking kill you, Blaise," Draco swore.

The dark haired boy sped out of the dungeons as fast as he could leaving Draco alone and dripping wet in the common room for all the first years to gawk at.

"Oh go stuff some toast in your mouths," he said with a huff before climbing up the stairs.

It was half an hour later that Draco made his way up the stairs to the Great Hall. It was much warmer out of the dungeons but still cold, somehow he was glad he wouldn't be playing today.

"Draco," Pansy said motioning for him though she was sitting at the same place they always did.

"Morning," he said.

"You look like shite," Blaise commented as Pansy pushed a mug of tea in his direction.

"Thank you," he said earning a smile despite the sarcasm in his voice, "you don't look much better either."

"Boys," she admonished with a suppressed smile. "I heard there was some action today morning..."

Blaise was suddenly interested in his plate of scrambled eggs and Draco stopped eating, a piece of dry toast lodged in his throat. Hadn't he put marmalade on it?

"Hey, Draco," Bulstrode said as she walked past him.

He managed a pained smile as he forced the toast down.

"Well?" pressed Pansy.

"It's all Blaise's fault," said Draco pointing his fork at him.

Had they not been sitting on opposite sides of the table, Draco didn't think he would've been able to resist having a go at him.

"I am innocent."

"That is a lie, Blaise," Pansy said. "Even I wouldn't believe that."

"I was trying to wake the bastard up," Blaise said. "He was going to miss Stone's emergency meeting."

"Which he has anyway," Pansy pointed out.

"Indeed," he conceded. "But that's not the point."

"Really?"

"You seemed to be having fun," Blaise said.

"I was half asleep!"

"If you want to get technical about it..."

"Alright. Why aren't you at Stone's emergency meeting?" she asked.

"I'd hate to miss breakfast with you two," he said. "Besides, what would our subjects do if we didn't show up?"

"It would be quite the conundrum," agreed Blaise sipping from a glass of grape juice.

"Come on, Draco, you know how he'd just love to kick you off the team," Pansy said loading more fruit onto her plate.

"He would if he hadn't already," the blonde said stabbing at a sausage.

"What?" asked Pansy.

"Shut up," Blaise said.

"He did," Draco said grabbing a bun and slathering it with some butter.

"This won't be good," Blaise said.

"Slytherin's going to lose to those wankers," Pansy said.

"The masses were looking to you as their leader," Blaise said.

"Oh shut it you."

"Why aren't you complaining about her language?" demanded Blaise.

"Who said I was complaining?" asked Draco with a wink in the olive-skinned boy's direction.

"See?" Blaise said throwing his hands in the air. "This is precisely what I mean, you're never direct."

Sensing she was missing something Pansy cleared her throat. "Can we talk about the fact that you're benched?"

"There's nothing to talk about," he said tearing off a chunk of the brioche and popping it into his mouth. "I'm benched."

"Don't look now but Potter's staring," Blaise said.

Draco's heart sped up and refused to slow down. "Is he?" he asked turning in his seat to have a look.

"I said not to look."

"Well you shouldn't have," Draco said licking his lips.

He thought he saw Potter flush but he couldn't be sure because his eyes had suddenly become cold and distant.

He must still be upset about last night, thought Draco sullenly.

Maybe calling his friends Weasel and Mudblood hadn't been the wisest move at the time but old habits died hard, the words had just slipped out of his mouth.

"Where were you last night?" asked Blaise looking up from his plate.

Draco turned away from Potter with a little too much reluctance and regret and forced himself to look at Blaise who with his untimely question had managed to pique Pansy interest.

"You were out last night?" she asked. She leaned in over her sparsely populated plate and whispered, "Was it Bulstrode?"

"What?" asked Draco nearly spitting pumpkin juice all over the table. "Of course not."

"Then who is it?" asked Blaise. "Not Nott surely."

Draco frowned.

"What makes you think I'm gay?" he asked.

"Aren't you?" replied Blaise his eyebrows raised.

Draco didn't dignify that with an answer. Instead, he went back to eating his breakfast and wondering why he couldn't get rid of the butterflies in his stomach.

{HPDM}

"Harry, stop staring," Hermione said.

Unfortunately, he couldn't. He'd come down early for breakfast and chosen the spot next to Hermione (not so he could glance inconspicuously at the Slytherin table every now and then because that was preposterous) which it turned out Ron- despite going out with Lavender officially- was not pleased with. Malfoy had come in late and ever since he had stepped into the room Harry was finding it difficult to do anything without surreptitiously throwing glances in his general direction. It was as though something was tugging at him, forcing him to keep looking there.

Must be the bond.

He was really hoping it wouldn't make it a constant habit to interfere with his normal day to day activities.

"Staring at what?" asked Ron turning around.

By this time, to Harry's relief, Malfoy had already turned back to his friends with whom he continued conversing. He seemed in a much better mood though it wasn't a change the rest of the Slytherins seemed to have noticed. To them all was it should be, as it had always been.

Was this the bond too?

Must be.

Either way, Harry was still angry, bond or no bond. Despite Draco having done it many times, Harry could not just sit by and let the Slytherin insult his friends. Ron and Hermione deserved better than that and if Malfoy couldn't see beyond blood purity then working anything out with him would be impossible.

"Snape. Harry's still upset over those twenty points," Hermione supplied.

He was not. "I-"

"Well, he'll be sure to make up for it by catching the snitch, won't you?" said Ron.

Of course he intended to catch the snitch and win the game. That wasn't a question but- why was Hermione smiling as though she knew something?

"If you're done, I really think we should get going," she said pushing her plate away. "The match starts in two hours doesn't it?"

"Yes," Ron said pushing away his used utensils as well. "Can't wait to hear that speech, mate."

It wasn't a great speech, not by a long shot but Harry had never been good at giving speeches, not really. The Dursleys had made sure to make him feel from a young age like every word that came out of his mouth was one too many. He just made sure to let the team know that he'd been watching them and that they were in good form (they were) and that Slytherin didn't stand a chance (they'd been trying for five years after all, why not make it six?).

Overall the team was well pleased with this and eventually the cheering of the crowds got louder and Lee Jordan's voice could be heard introducing the players. It was time to line up.

As the seeker, Harry stood at the very back across from Draco Malfoy who was making it a point not to look his direction. He seemed a bit stiff, Harry noted, like cardboard but- wait, Harry thought he'd been benched. What was he doing on the lineup?

"Thought you wouldn't be making an appearance today," he commented.

Draco didn't even deign to look his way.

"You know what they say, you can't send a boy to do a man's job."

Yes, but wasn't that a muggle saying? How did Draco know it? He was about to say just as much when he felt a stab of pain in his forehead. He barely had time to contemplate it as Lee's voice faded out and the other players began to mount their brooms.

"Another ten points to Gryffindor!" Lee yelled as the Slytherin keeper let the quaffle through the hoops. "A lesson to you kids, money can't buy talent."

Harry's eyes seemed to search the pitch for Malfoy's form if only to see his reaction to the comment. Gryffindor were in the lead with seventy points and Slytherin were not far behind at fifty. There had been no sign of the snitch yet and Harry had even thought of chasing wind just to see if Draco would follow but each time he'd been thwarted by a bludger or another score for either team. He was perched lightly on his broom, high above the other players with one eye out for the snitch, the other on the game.

He felt another stab of pain, his had reached for his scar then he began to feel woozy, his vision became blurry.

"What's this," said Lee, "it seems Harry Potter has spotted the- no, false alarm, he's falling, fast-"

His words were cut off as Harry's vision went black and he soared to the ground.

{HPDM}

Draco paced outside the hospital wing his hands stuffed in his pockets, his lower lip nearly chewed to nothing. He had caught the snitch, just as Potter tumbled to the ground, but in the grand scheme of things it seemed to matter little because all he could hear in his mind was that his mate needed him. Now.

He could hear Pompfrey bustling around inside and wished terribly that he could be there too, what if it was serious, what if Ha-Potter had suffered major injuries?

Draco began to pace.

He wasn't sure what he would do if Pompfrey didn't let him in soon.

"You can come in now."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief but the feeling was quickly washed away when he saw Potter's head, left arm and right thigh wrapped in bandages. "What-?" he asked resisting the urge to run to the bed. It would be unseemly.

"He sustained various heavy injuries but he will recover," she said clearing up her tools. "No more than five minutes."

Draco nodded although he intended to stay longer. He sat at Potter side, his hand firmly on his laps and inhaled deeply. The scent of sweat, wet grass and sandalwood clung to him, Malfoy couldn't resist taking a whiff.

"Malfoy?" he heard.

"Potter," he said leaning back.

The dark haired boy struggled to sit up but Draco put a hand on his chest- against his better judgement. "You need to rest."

"I know but-"

"You're hurt, Potter," Draco said.

"What are you doing here?"

"You're forgetting I'm your mate." The answering silence was enough to make him continue. "I can't exactly control the urge to... comfort you, Potter!"

He had sat up eventually causing Draco to take his arm off his chest. He wasn't sure why but he felt a strong pull towards Potter, the need to touch him again.

"And I'm- I'm sorry about Weasel and Mudblood," -being your friends he almost added but hastily put in when he saw Harry's expression: "About calling them that, I mean.

"Oh. That's good," Potter mumbled. He gazed around at the Hospital Wing clearly at a loss as to what to say. Draco found himself stuck in the same situation.

He surveyed Potter's expression and tamped down on the urge to reach out, it was getting stronger each day. Potter, the damnable bastard merely sat there and ruffled his hair.

"What?" Potter asked when he saw the look on Draco's face. "I'm not allowed to-"

"I would strongly advise against it," Draco said.

Potter nodded, his eyes ghosting over Draco's lips before returning to his eyes. He seemed to be debating something, something Draco appeared to be having mixed feeling about. He leaned forward and the blonde couldn't help but mirror his actions.

"How about this?" he breathed. "Call my friends what you called them again and you can forget about any sort of... agreement between us. Clear?"

Draco was stunned for a moment but it passed as his mind registered exactly what he thought had been about to happen. Had he lost it? Potter would never think of... he would never even get that close to him if the bond wasn't there to influence his actions. Merlin, he could be so stupid sometimes.

"Harry?" Hermione sputtered in utter shock her eyes flying between him and Draco. "What-?"

Potter instantly pulled away from Draco and it was as though he was no longer there. Potter only had eyes for Mud- Granger as he attempted to explain what had been going on.

"I'll leave this in your capable hands," Draco said rising from his stool.

He had just about had it with Potter acting like he was nothing and was not about to stoop so low as to take it.

A/N: Review, follow and all that jazz, it makes me extremely overjoyed and I can't thank those who have already done so enough. You deserve more than my honeyed words which is why I'm going to get to work on the next chapter.

Love you.  
silent-assassin x 


	11. Chapter 11

I never knew that I could feel this way  
I'm right for you  
This kinda love don't happen everyday  
Be friendly but cautious, you're gonna have to count your losses  
Easily attracted, but dangerous to get distracted

Fight for you  
Morgan Page

Word count: 4078

"Er," stuttered Harry. "I was just..."

Draco rose, he had a grim expression on his face and his mouth was set in a hard line. "I'll leave this in your capable hands."

Harry wanted to throw something at him as he sauntered out of the hospital wing. Before he could do anything however, Malfoy was gone.

"Harry," Hermione said moving to his bed as Ron came into the hospital wing.

"Was that Malfoy I just saw leaving the hospital wing?" he asked pointing over his shoulder. "Blimey, Harry, you never should've let him catch the snitch, he looked like he had a pep in his step."

"Hermione," Harry said in a rushed whisper. "You can't tell Ron what you just saw, I promise I'll explain everything later but I need you to keep quiet about it."

She looked conflicted but nodded anyway.

"Okay but I'm expecting a full explanation, Harry," she said sternly.

He nodded.

"Full explanation on what?" asked Ron as he came to the side of Harry's bed.

"Why I uh... didn't catch the snitch," Harry said thinking fast.

Ron seemed to regard this with an ounce of disbelief because it was quite rare that his two bestfriends talked Quidditch together. Nevertheless, the topic itself seemed to get to him and it wasn't long before he could resist saying. "Yeah, Harry. What happened out there? You haven't fallen off your broom since third year."

Harry sighed. "I had a vision."

"Another one!" exclaimed Hermione.

"Shh," he said. "Yes another one."

Ron suddenly looked apologetic. "I didn't know- you should've said something."

Harry waved it away. "Well between falling off my broom and ending up here, I didn't exactly have a chance did I?"

"What did you see?" asked Hermione taking a seat.

"I can't remember," he started.

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, "you've got to, it could be important."

"I know," he said.

"Are you feeling better?" asked Ron.

"Aside from losing to Slytherin," 'Malfoy' his tone seemed to say. "No not really, I just need some rest I think."

"What do you think Malfoy was doing out on the pitch?" asked Ron. "Can't he even stay benched?"

"Ron," Hermione chided him. "That's not important now."

"I don't know," Harry mused. "Maybe it was a lie?"

Ron shook his head. "Malfoy wouldn't stand for it."

Harry agreed. Malfoy was too proud.

"Really?" Hermione said. "You just had a vision and you choose to discuss Quidditch?"

"Oi," Ron said, "we can't all share your love of books."

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh.

"Out!" called Madam Pompfrey as she bustled back into the Hospital Wing. "Out, out. Out with you!"

Hermione placed a hand over her heart and took a deep breath for at the moment Madam Pompfrey had entered the room yelling she had jumped from the stool and let out a squeak of fear.

"Oh, it's just you," she said.

"It should be just me in here," the Walter said. "You can come and visit tomorrow, Harry needs his rest."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, we'll visit you later, alright?"

He nodded.

"See you later mate," Ron said as he followed Hermione out.

"Knew I shouldn't have allowed Malfoy in," she muttered as she pulled the curtains around Harry's bed.

Right you are, thought Harry as he collapsed against the bed releasing a puff of air. He did not want to think about what had just happened.

{HPDM}

Contrary to his expectations, Draco Malfoy was not having a good time. Yes, he had just caught the snitch and shown everyone how wrong Stone was to bench him- he had come crawling back, hadn't he?- but Harry Potter had been about to... He didn't dare even think it. It was absurd. Potter would never... Draco must have misinterpreted it, he must have read too much into the situation.

While he was on the matter, he realised he would have to keep the identity of his mate a secret because Potter was a boy and if his father found out. Or worse, The Dark Lord...

Draco swallowed as he made his way up the stairs.

He did not want to think what the Dark Lord would do.

It would be better if he confronted Potter later and told him he-they- could not hope to venture into any future agreements, however small because... because it would just be better that way. He had a mission to complete and wolf or no wolf he would complete it or die trying. He remembered reading something about werewolves having to complete bonds with their mates but Draco suspected that if he read enough he could discover- or perhaps come up with- a potion that would suppress his urges.

He was just about to begin working out the logistics of it when he realised he was on the seventh floor. With a sigh he tucked the problem away for later and paced three times directing his thoughts to somewhere he could find something hidden. It would be nice if he could find the twin cupboard immediately but considering how old Hogwarts was, he was certain he was not the first curious student to come around.

Just like the last time a pair of shiny double doors appeared before him. Instinctively, he checked to see if anyone was following him and when he was satisfied to see that no one was watching him, he stepped in the room pausing only to shut the doors behind him.

The first thing he noticed was that he had proven one of his theories right. Wishing for something different had brought him a room that looked nothing like Manor's palour. In fact, his mother would have brought hell upon the house elves if she ever saw such a state of disorder. There had to be at least two to three dozen piles in the room, each of them grazed against the high white ceiling which was dusty and covered in numerous cobwebs.

Draco couldn't help his amazement. For such a large number of things to have been left here there must have been hundreds of students who had visited the place in the past and at least a handful of professors, maybe even Filch.

He took a cautious step forward partially afraid everything would disappear if he so much as breathed too loud even if he knew that was not how the room worked. A few steps forward and he spotted something glinting at the bottom of the pile to his left. Unable to resist the allure of jewellery, he knelt down and grasped a thin chain in his hands.

He wasn't sure if pulling it out would cause the entire pile to tumble but he supposed doing it quickly was his only hope. So he took a deep breath, counted to three then pulled the chain as he fast as he could scrambling away from the pile in case it all came crashing down.

It didn't. A few books at the top merely trembled releasing healthy puffs of dust before everything was silent once more.

Draco looked down at the object of his labour and found it to be a pendant with a pink gem in a titanium setting. He wiped off the dust clouding it with his shirt before examining it again. It looked familiar, very familiar and had it not been so obviously feminine he would have kept it for himself but as it was he would have to ask Pansy about it, he remembered her moaning about some lost necklace or the other.

Where am I going to find the damn cabinet? he wondered as he pocketed the pendant and continued through the room. At some point the dust became to heavy in the air and he had to hold his arm to his nose to prevent himself from inhaling the dust particles. The vastness of the room made him wish he had brought along Pansy or Blaise to help but he quickly dispelled the thought.

There was no point dragging them into this. It was his burden to bear.

"The Essence of Mugwort and it's Various Uses," Draco read tracing his finger across the spine of the a dusty old tome. "Hmm..." It could be useful though he had never much cared for the process of exctracting Mugwort, it took days.

Still, he would come back for it, it would be a shame to leave such a useful guide behind lest it fell into more... unworthy hands.

Please, you're the only unworthy one here.

Draco clenched his fists.

He was not going to listen-

You won't even find the stupid-

As Draco got deeper into the room he had to squeeze himself in between the piles, he could see he was approaching a dark wall but it was still a fair distance away. He got out his wand feeling the hairs on his neck rise all of a sudden. He stopped to listen but was confronted with nothing but the sound of his heart slamming against his ribcage. He was in a large dark dusty room, it made sense.

As he approached the back (or what he thought was the back) of the room, he saw a large blue chest. Draco felt a wave of relief flood his veins as he took in the sight of what could only be the twin Vanishing Cabinet (though maybe he should take a look around just to be sure). He'd been instructed to search for a specific inscription on the left side of the cabinet. He got to his knees and fingered the aged wood until his fingers glided over shallow grooves. Craning his neck to look, he took in the sight.

Tóta glória major

How fitting he thought as he grasped the handle, turned it and pushed the door aside. A heavy cloud of dust that elicited a coughing fit from him swirled around Draco for a long moment and left his eyes tearing. It was a good long minute before he could look up to inspect the cabinet.

It was not very large but appeared to be empty. Draco cast around for something to test the cabinet's capabilities with and came across an old copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, a volume published in the late eighties. Sighing, he picked up the dusty book and tossed it into the cabinet which he closed immediately after and spoke the words:

"Ad tua frátum rés intrá mitta."

He waited exactly five seconds before saying:

"É tua frátó rés intrá porta."

Another five seconds.

He grasped the handle and pulled open the cabinet. His face fell. Nothing. It hadn't worked. Draco run a hand through his hair in frustration, what was he to do now? He couldn't very well owl father and tell him it didn't work. If there was one thing Death Eaters knew not to do it was tell the Dark Lord of their failure because he tended to shoot the messenger. Draco kicked at the cabinet and sighed.

He would have to try again. And again until it worked because his life depended on it and so did his family's.

He looked at the cabinet one last time before retracing his footsteps and leaving the Room of Requirement. He was surprised to find that it was dark out, he hadn't noticed how fast time had flown by. As he descended the stairs he debated about whether or not to stop by the Great Hall.

Pansy would kill him if he didn't but the girl was too inquisitive for her own sake and Draco was not in the mood for questions. The Slytherin common room was out as well because if Blaise was not in the great hall then he would be there. Even if he wasn't he didn't want to be around the other Slytherins at the moment. Their undivided attention was flattering and all (he'd always been one to preen at that sort of thing) but he wasn't... feeling it today.

In the end Draco decided he would make a quick trip to Myrtle's bathroom on his way to the Astronomy Tower- drink free this time. Maybe it was time he faced his thoughts, maybe it was time he did something about them other than attempt to drown them in alcohol and (no doubt) illegal potions. He tugged at a stray lock of hair as he navigated the empty corridors, he needed something.

It wasn't very often these moments came to him but sometimes they came hard and fast. He would awake from a fitful sleep with a deep pit at the bottom of his stomach, with a feeling that he was not complete, that a part of him was not there. It had nothing to do with fear or his past (rather hedonistic- though in part it still was) life. He knew it sounded like bollocks which was why he'd never told anyone but the feeling was persistent regardless. He drank, he flew, he read, he ate yet nothing seemed to be able to satisfy that deep-seated hunger within him.

It was like a monster trapped in a pit, desperately trying to claw its way out.

With a jolt, Draco realised he had arrived at the doors to Myrtle's bathroom. He pushed them open, searched for signs of any other presence besides his then made his way into the room. He could already smell the Pepper-up potion from where he stood, a masking charm would be good just in case anyone happened to find their way to the sixth floor.

"Draco darling?" he heard a shrill voice call. He shivered at the word 'darling' and tried to be as silent as possible as he made his way to the last stall. "Is that you?"

Nearly there...

"Draco," she said coming into view.

The Slytherin forced a slight smile whilst he tried not to look like he was seeing right through her- she would throw a tantrum to rival one of his.

"Good evening, Myrtle."

She clasped her hands together and looked at the ground her eyelids flattering rapidly.

Wow, she's blushing.

Draco wanted to roll his eyes.

"You're always so formal," she said.

It helped him remain aloof and fend off small talk while he was at it. "I don't do chummy."

"You seemed very talkative the other night."

Draco was struggling to remember which night she was talking about when it all came back to him. The night his parents had learned he was a werewolf, the night he'd sought solace within these very walls and sung songs (muggle ones at that) loud enough to wake the entire castle. That night. Had he said anything to her? What if he'd revealed the Dark Lord's plan? No, he'd built up a tolerance, even inebriated he wouldn't risk spilling such dangerous secrets to a ghost that couldn't keep its mouth shut.

"I was singing," he said before muttering the incantation to unlock the door, a basic alohomora wouldn't do it. It wasn't something one would find in any book in the Hogwarts Library, strictly speaking. "You walked away from me."

He could hear her pout.

"Only because I couldn't bear to see you that way," she said sounding closer to him than before.

He leaned over the large cauldron, peering into its depths. "Consistent purple colour, medium viscosity, hmmm... I do wonder if..."

"Draco?"

Draco dipped his wand into the cauldron and lifted it to his nose to get a whiff.

"Hmm?"

"Are you listening to me?"

"Mmm... I can smell the Mugwort though it shouldn't be this strong so soon..."

Draco was vaguely aware of Myrtle crossing her arms with a huff before disappearing to wherever she went when she wasn't bothering him. He decided he would check on it tomorrow, maybe add a dash of the remainder of the asphodel plant just to spice things up a little... that sounded good. Satisfied, he straightened up, wiped his wand on a square of tissue paper and left, headed in the direction of the Astronomy Tower.

{HPDM}

Absent.

From the looks of it his friends-especially Parkinson whose dark hair was strewn over her shoulders, her expression indicating she was out for blood- were not pleased at the fact. Harry idly wondered where Malfoy could be. Surely he wouldn't want to be away from his adoring fans too long because Harry knew that unlike him, the Slytherin actually relished the attention. Figuring he was somewhere within the castle's walls and that his friends would deal with him sufficiently, he returned to his supper.

After a moment of silent eating, he looked up again. He was not used to having silent meals, usually Hermione would say something admonishing to Ron or Harry himself or perhaps they would talk about Quidditch (excepting Hermione of course) but now that the two weren't talking, he felt the need to fill the silence. After all, he'd had plenty of that in the Hospital Wing.

If you asked him he was lucky Pompfrey had even allowed him to leave the place, with the number of spells she'd been scanning him with and tonics she'd forced onto him, it'd started to look like she wanted to keep him just a little longer. But Harry had protested, he hadn't wanted to miss Monday's classes and he only had a sprained wrist which was mostly healed thanks to Skele-Gro. So it was with much reluctance and a promise to return should anything out of the ordinary happen that Harry was allowed to leave the Hospital Wing on a breezy SundayEvening.

He sighed.

"You can have my notes," Hermione said with a sigh over her book as though she could read Harry's mind.

Ron grumbled something.

"Thanks?" Harry said.

"If you're going to say something say it out loud, Ron," Hermione said pouring herself a glass of water.

Ron looked stoically at his roast potatoes. "He didn't even bloody miss any classes."

Although Harry was always grateful for any help Hermione could offer (as it usually tended to be very helpful) he had been thinking along the same lines.

"Yes, but you seem to have forgotten that Harry sprained his wrist."

"It's perfectly fine now," Ron said looking to Harry for his assent. Harry merely held his hands in the air. "He wouldn't have been released-"

Hermione laughed a little bitterly.

"Oh Ron, you don't know anything do you?" she said. "Skele-Gro takes three days to work fully."

Ron huffed and shook his head.

"Look guys," Harry said.

"Of course you have to take every bloody moment to Lord it over us how intelligent you are," said Ron now brandishing his fork in the air.

"Ron," Harry said knowing that wasn't fair.

"Really, is it my fault I'd rather read in the library as opposed to spending hours flying on a broom?"

"Hermione," Harry said sensing this was getting out of hand and that neither of them could really hear him.

He looked around and could see that several people had began to look up from their food to see what was going on at the Gryffindor table.

"-why do you have to spoil everything, Ron?" demanded Hermione looking like she was close to tears as she rose from the table and fled from the Great Hall.

"Girls," Ron said with a scowl.

Harry sighed.

"I better check on her," he said.

Ron narrowed his eyes at him and because he didn't want him thinking he was picking sides he said, "Remember what happened in first year?"

Ron grudgingly acquiesced and Harry flew out of the Great Hall after Hermione. He was not, unfortunately fast enough and ended up staring at an empty corridor. He decided maybe he should just give her a moment to cool off, she would come out when she was ready. Now that he had left his supper unfinished, Harry wasn't sure what to do. Going back to Gryffindor Tower was out of the question, it was still early and he was feeling a little bad that he had lost the snitch to Malfoy.

He made up his mind and ascended the stairs, strolling down corridors with his hands in his pockets. He didn't want to get caught between the fight Ron and Hermione were having and he didn't want to have to choose sides but he just didn't get it. So Hermione had kissed Victor Krum, that was a whole two years ago, why was it bothering Ron now? He hadn't even admitted he was interested in her then.

Not that he had now either.

Harry came to an abrupt stop.

A weary sigh. "Every fucking place in this school..."

"You're the one with the heightened senses if I'm not wrong."

Malfoy's eyebrows rose.

"So?"

Harry moved to the ledge beside Malfoy who was now eyeing him warily his hand close to his pocket where Harry presumed his wand was hidden. Harry chose to ignore this and instead closed his eyes letting the cold wind bite and snap at his face. It felt quite liberating, it made him want to stretch out his hands, open his mouth, say something to the world.

"You know how much I love this place."

Malfoy scoffed.

"Let me just stop you right there, Potter. I have no such knowledge," he said and Harry could almost see him behind his eyelids his eyes narrowed, his hand clenching the stone ledge. "And second, are you suggesting I came here because I knew you would?"

Harry opened his eyes then, already missing the liberating feeling that had been coursing through him but the look on Malfoy's face was so incredulous it was priceless.

He shrugged. "Who's to say?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes but turned away from him without an answer. The wind fingered the blonde strands on his head and Harry realised that he had foregone gelling it today, it looked... different on him. He was not sure if it was a good different or a bad one.

"Look, about what happened in the Hospital Wing," Harry began eager to get the matter out. He knew Draco would make fun of him for it but he had to at least explain his actions. "I don't know what came over me-"

"Don't, Potter," Malfoy said his hand clenching the stone more firmly. "Don't go there."

Harry was mildly surprised but wrestled the feeling away.

"Oh, so you're alright with random blokes cornering you in Hospital Wings?" Harry asked turning around so he was leaning on the stone slab, facing Malfoy who refused to so much as glance in his direction. He didn't know why he was suddenly so comfortable around him but something had definitely shifted since the last time they met. "Didn't know you had it in you."

"What are you doing?" he spat.

Harry fought to remain unfazed.

"Well, at the moment I'm attempting to strike up a conversation with you," he said.

"Go away, Potter."

"You haven't answered my question."

The wind tossed some dark strands in his eye and he shifted his head so that his hair fell away from his eyes. Draco seemed to be watching the movement carefully, dissecting it even. It sent chills up Harry's spine, made him want to reach out...

He swallowed.

"Will you leave if I do?"

"I will." Harry didn't think he would be able to, not when Malfoy looked so... inviting standing on the ledge, the wind caressing his hair, his eyes glassy from the biting breeze, his uniform rumpled but still looking elegant. It was as though he continued to defy the laws of nature simply by being.

"I don't."

"Then why did you walk off looking pissed?" asked Harry wanting to know if he'd been bothered by it.

He wouldn't be surprised.

"Because you're my mate it was a natural reaction," he said tearing his gaze away from the Black Lake and looking at Harry to gauge his reaction. "I couldn't resist it anymore than you could."

Harry could not control the flushing of his cheeks. Malfoy laughed.

"First time, Potter?"

"No," he said a little defensively.

He had kissed Cho last year though the memory of it was something he was rapidly trying to forget.


End file.
